


Fair Warnings

by manic_intent



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Full spoilers, M/M, Post-Canon, THIS FIC IS MOSTLY T-RATED, That Postcanon AU where Wade gets a mission from a person from his past, should he choose to accept it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-14 10:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14767679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “It’s a dark, stormy night, so I kinda thought my past would show up to bite me,” Wade said, slouching against the counter and taking a long drag of his joint.The ‘past’ in question rolled her eyes as she sat down at the counter beside him. “It’s mid-afternoon and cloudy outside, Wilson. Jesus.”“She’s right,” Dopinder said, from where he was polishing the countertop industriously. Under Dopinder’s care, Sister Margaret’s had become depressingly clean. Wade could even see the knobbly outline of his reflection in the countertop. “It’s getting warm too. It’d probably be sunny tomorrow.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I’m actually reading more reviews and articles about Deadpool 2, I realized that I’ve actually pretty much erased the first film from my memory. YMMV, but I didn’t like it. Glad that it made enough money to fund the second film, but I didn’t find it funny and as such clearly didn’t remember all the divergences from the comics (esp how Deadpool’s disfigurement is actually caused: not because of his healing factor but because of Ajax’s torture). Whoops. Not sure if this has opened up any plot holes in my previous stories. I'll go back over them and check when I have more energy.
> 
> As with all my stories, the mid-credits thing never happens.

“It’s a dark, stormy night, so I kinda thought my past would show up to bite me,” Wade said, slouching against the counter and taking a long drag of his joint. 

The ‘past’ in question rolled her eyes as she sat down at the counter beside him. “It’s mid-afternoon and cloudy outside, Wilson. Jesus.”

“She’s right,” Dopinder said, from where he was polishing the countertop industriously. Under Dopinder’s care, Sister Margaret’s had become depressingly clean. Wade could even see the knobbly outline of his reflection in the countertop. “It’s getting warm too. It’d probably be sunny tomorrow.” 

“Who died and made you the weatherman?” Wade glowered at Dopinder, who shuffled quickly out of reach. “What do you want, Silver?”

“Whisky. Neat. Still how you take it?” Silver asked. She motioned at Dopinder, who smiled ingratiatingly and rummaged under the counter. 

“Never said no to a free drink,” Wade conceded. Jhimon ‘Silver’ Tang wore her years with more grace than Wade had his, even before he’d been conned into the Workshop and its family-unfriendly torture sequence. But for a few seams etched against her eyes she looked the same, down to her wiry and compact frame, her black hair still cut into the same tight bob above her shoulders.

“Well, you look like shit,” Silver told him. She smiled, as merciless as Wade remembered. 

“How’s the brother?”

“Dead.” 

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” Wade grinned sharply back. “Ooh, I knew today was my lucky day.” 

“I see time has only made you more of an asshole.” 

“He was a dick to the rest of us but he was an extra-special dick to you, I remember that much. Lieutenant.” 

Silver shrugged. “He was the only son. Always thought it made him better than me. Usual story. Reason I’m here doesn’t have anything to do with him. Much.” 

Dopinder arrived with two glasses and poured them both a generous finger of whiskey. He backed away again under Wade’s stare. Wade turned back to Silver. “I’m starting to sense something along the lines of a sob story, possibly similar to the plot of Rush Hour, Taken, or the Foreigner. Maybe I’m stereotyping. But Hollywood doesn’t really have many diverse plotlines involving ex-special forces agents. Don’t think they have any involving Chinese-Canadian women.” 

“It’s my niece,” Silver said flatly. 

“Dead?”

“Not yet. I hope.”

“… Guess you probably could kick Liam Neeson’s ass back in the day,” Wade said. Maybe even now. “Anyway. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is a Marvel franchise, not Mission Impossible. Last I saw nobody here has a face-eating moustache. Maybe you should talk to the police.” 

Silver downed her whiskey in a sharp jerk. She frowned at Wade, studying his face, then his hands. “What happened to you?” 

“Really long story. Some of it doesn’t even make any sense, continuity-wise. Basically, I’m meant to have gotten Wolverine’s healing factor to solve my cancer problem but the storyline got simplified for a two-hour film, so I got superpowers in some other weird way instead and here we are.” Wade sipped his drink. “Now we’re all caught up on me. Your turn.” 

“I retired. Opened a restaurant in Toronto. Fell out with my brother. Didn’t keep in touch with anyone. Other than my niece.” Silver took a photo from her messenger bag and slipped it over the counter. Grinning young woman, something of Silver in her round face and high cheekbones. Her hair was buzzed down, and she was in full uniform. “Arlette Tang.” 

“Signed up with the Navy, huh? Chip off the old block.” 

“Served a year before she was headhunted into a new gig. She was real excited when she called me to tell me about it. Said it was going to pay well, that it was something like JTF2, but new. A new task force, mutants only. Called Alpha Flight. Haven’t heard from her since. It’s been months.” 

“Mutant? What can she do?”

“Teleport.” 

“Huh. Hard to keep someone like that under wraps. Maybe she just forgot to call home?” Wade pushed the photo back towards Silver. She didn’t touch it.

“Arlette isn’t like that. I’m the only family she’s got. She… we used to check in on each other all the time. She’s. The daughter I never had.” Silver clenched her hands tightly over her lap.

Wade flinched. Seriously. Seriously? Another arc involving other people’s children? Was this his only emotional trigger or something? And it had been months since he’d had a Ness Fridge Dream too. Wade exhaled. “So why come to me?”

“Heard you’re friends with the X-Men. Thought maybe they might know something. I’ve exhausted all the leads I have back home. I’ll be honest with you, I’m desperate. You’re a long shot, but you’re all I’ve got left.” 

“It’s not going to be free,” Wade told her. 

“I’ve sold the restaurant. And my place. I’ll give you ten grand up front. If we find Arlette alive, I’ll give you the rest. That enough?” 

“Now we’re talking,” Wade said brightly. He pocketed the photograph and stubbed out his joint, sticking it behind his ear. “You know, it’s quite possible she’s just on some kinda super-secret black ops mission and just couldn’t phone in, right? This is might turn out to be a really expensive and unnecessary bit of helicopter parenting. Is it a tiger mom thing?” 

Silver snorted. “Fuck you, Wilson. I hit up Hudson first. He put a word out on the sergeants’ grapevine. The Alpha Flight program’s gone. Scrubbed off the books. That’s as far as I got.” 

“Does smell fishy,” Wade conceded. Sergeants knew everything worth knowing in any army because there was something about the rank that made them love gossip as much as ducks loved water. And usually, files were just tagged to high heaven and slapped with a high security clearance, not destroyed. The armed forces were pack rats by nature. “Okay. Yes. Let me put my game face on. Then we’ll hit the road.”

Silver wrinkled her nose. “You mean that weird tight red costume with the mask…? Saw you on TV a while back.” 

“Hey! Red is lucky. It’s in your culture, even.” 

“But not in yours, jackass,” Silver told him. “Whatever. You can wear a fucking Pokemon onesie for all I care if it gets me Arlette back.” 

“Don’t tempt me, Lieutenant.”

#

Cable scowled as he opened the door. “What do you want, Wilson?”

Wade tried squeezing past, but Cable blocked his path. He eyed Silver for a long moment, then glanced back at Wade. At least Cable wasn’t wearing his weird bodysuit today, but a khaki shirt and gray slacks that probably screamed ‘ex-military’ to anyone in the Know. Some things were never gonna change, apocalyptic future or not. 

“Friend of mine needs help finding her niece who is really like a daughter to her.” Wade jerked his thumb over his shoulder. If Wade was going to be emotionally shoehorned into this plotline, he was going to take at least one other person down with him. 

Cable stared at Wade for a moment more, then he exhaled and stood aside. “How’d you even know where I live?” Cable asked as he shut the door behind Silver. 

“You probably shouldn’t tell salient character details to Dopinder,” Wade said.

“Shit.” 

Wade looked around. Neat, small flat. Tiny kitchen, TV, couch. Bedroom. Almost no furniture. Silver stared at the Awesome Gun, which was racked up with the rest of Cable’s gear in a heavily modified IKEA shelf on the wall. “The hell?” Silver said. 

“Long story,” Wade told her, and turned back to Cable. “Anyway. Dopinder also told me you were a telepath. Which, you know, I’m kinda hurt you never told me, seeing as you did The Thing to save my life and all. I thought we had a real bonding moment.” 

Cable sighed. He leaned his back against the refrigerator and crossed his arms. “You want me to help you use Cerebro to find Arlette."

Silver flinched, even as Wade pressed his palms together in mock delight. “See? Telepathy is awesome. We just saved this story at least two paragraphs of exposition.”

“Why don’t you just ask the Professor?” 

“Because the timeline’s already royally fucked, what with McAvoy showing up in a Mansion that also has a portrait of Barack Obama and we probably don’t have enough money for Patrick Stewart to make a cameo.” 

“Because you think he’d say ‘no’,” Cable said, scratching his jaw.

“… That too. I might have maybe broken Cerebro a tiny bit. The last time I was there.” 

Cable stared at Wade. “I’m not up to breaking into the Mansion and pissing off the Professor.” 

“Hey, slow down there, Wall-E. No one said anything about breaking into the Mansion. I’m legit allowed in the Mansion, seeing as I’m Russell’s legal guardian. We’ll just go, use the equipment without breaking anything, and leave. You’d get to help someone find her not!daughter,” Wade said, trying for the same angle. Second time’s the charm, maybe. Cable grit his teeth.

“Lost yours?” Silver asked before Cable could say anything. At his tight nod, she glared at Wade. “You’re a dickwad, Wilson.” 

“I don’t know any other telepaths so we kinda need his help here,” Wade shot back. “Let me handle the talking.”

“Your mouth got you discharged from the Force,” Silver said. She squared her shoulders, hooking her thumbs into her pockets, and looked Cable right in the eyes. Silver probably only came up to Cable’s shoulders, but she was wound up tight, close to brittle. “Look. I don’t know you and I don’t know what your history with Wilson is. But if you can help me find Arlette… what do you want, money? How much? Please.” 

Something in Cable’s face softened. He looked up at the ceiling, sucking in a slow breath. Just as Wade was about to try more emotional blackmail, Cable said, “Fine.” He glanced at Wade. “I’ll take a cut from what you’re getting.” 

Wade scowled at him. “No.” 

“You need my help.”

“Was kinda hoping you’d do it for free,” Wade said, “in the spirit of fridged daughter-figures and such?” 

“Surprised that _you’re_ not. You were pretty motivated over Russell.” 

“Yeah, well, kinda got that out of my system.” Wade shuddered. “Unlike what the mass media likes to teach, altruism really doesn’t pay.”

“You seriously want to bargain over something like this? Don’t be a fuckwit,” Cable said. 

“We’re talking rent money here, it’s not personal. Ten percent.”

“Forty.”

“Forty? Just for using mutant Google? Dream on, Alexa. Fifteen.” 

“Forty, because you know something’s wrong and finding Arlette’s just going to be the start of the shitstorm. You want my help, you’re getting me for the rest of the ride, handsome.” Cable smiled thinly. 

Fuck telepaths. “I was kinda hoping that this sequel would be less ‘ARR, Me Angry Terminator!’ and more Colossus and nubile young women,” Wade said, resigned. Cable had a point. Whatever could’ve made handpicks for a mutant-only Special Forces team disappear might, okay, maybe be a little too much for Wade himself to handle. “Okay. Forty. And I hate you.” 

Cable nodded, pushing away from the fridge. His gear flew over to him from the rack, and he strapped the fanny pack over his chest as his gun slotted against his back. Silver blinked. “You’re just going to go out in public like that?” she asked. 

“I know, I know, we’ve all talked to him about the fanny pack,” Wade said sadly. “In the future they surgically remove everybody’s sense of fashion. Tragic, isn’t it.” 

“I meant. That’s a huge gun. Nobody even cares?” 

“Not so far,” Cable said. 

Wade clapped Silver on the shoulder. “Welcome to America.”

#

“So she used to be your boss when you were both in the Canadian Special Forces?” Russell gawked at Silver as he met them at the door to the Mansion. “Canada has Special Forces? What even do you guys do? Defend the maple syrup reserves?”

Silver sighed. “Watch your mouth,” Wade told Russell. “Defending maple syrup is a serious job. You’d be surprised how much bear-wrestling is involved. It’s like Leonardo diCaprio in the Revenant, but all day, every day.”

Russell blinked. “Really?”

“Counter-terrorism,” Silver said, before Wade could open his mouth. 

“I mean, _Canada_?” Russell asked, as he closed the door behind Cable and scooted up to Wade’s side. “What are your missions like? You guys just apologise until the bad guys give in?”

“Okay kid,” Wade said, scowling, “who’s the most violent mutant you know, eh? Not counting Vertically Challenged Schwarzenegger over there.” 

“… You, I guess,” Russell said doubtfully. 

“And the most violent mutant I know is Logan, rest in pieces, or whatever he’s up to continuity wise. And he’s also Canadian.”

“Huh,” Russell said, blinking. “Maybe it’s a Canadians with Healing Factors thing.” 

“What does that even have to do with anything? No. We Canadians are badass. You guys have deer? Our moose shit on your deer. Does New Zealand have bears? No, I didn’t fucking think so. I don’t want to hear any more maple syrup jokes out of someone from sheepfucker country.” 

Silver eyed Russell soberly. “Wilson here is seriously your guardian?”

Russell nodded. “Yeah. It’s. Complicated.” 

“Shit, son. Sorry to hear it. You’re probably gonna need therapy,” Silver said. 

“It’s not so bad,” Russell said earnestly. “If we ever got lost in a forest and he broke his leg at least we wouldn’t be stuck in there for six weeks or something.” 

“Hey. _Hey_. Only I get to do the fourth wall stuff. Besides, you have an important job,” Wade said, patting Russell on the head and ignoring him as he flailed Wade’s hand off. “I need you to make sure nobody interrupts us while we use Cerebro.” 

“It’s okay, when you called and said you wanted to use it to find someone’s niece I talked to the Professor and he said it’s fine, you can use Cerebro for an hour,” Russell said.

Wade stared. “You did _what_.” 

“We’ve been learning about civic responsibility all week, so I’m doing my bit. The Professor even said it’s very nice of you to help someone like that, so I told him I’m pretty sure you were an asshole about it and insisted on doing it for money, and the Professor said well, everyone has to start somewhere.” 

Wade slapped a palm over his masked face. “Sweet mother of Christ, they’re ruining you in here. I’m going to have to stage an intervention one of these days.” 

“So this is the famous ‘X-Mansion’?” Silver asked, looking around. “Kinda thought there would be more people.”

“I know, right? Budgets, I tell you,” Wade said mournfully. 

“Most of the older people and the Professor are away in South America doing something,” Russell said vaguely. “Rest of us are holding the fort.” 

“ _You_ look like you swallowed a roach,” Wade told Cable. Cable hadn’t said a word since they’d pulled up at the Mansion, and was looking around as though he expected a jump scare at any moment. 

“In my time this place is a monument,” Cable said, studying the furniture. “A memory of a better time. When there was still some hope for integration.” He shook his head. “Monuments look smaller during times of peace.”

“…Don’t mind him,” Wade said, noticing Silver’s wary stare. “He’s totally a refugee from the DC universe.” 

Negasonic and Yukio were waiting for them in the sparse basement, by the Cerebro blast door. Yukio smiled brightly and waved as they approached, and giggled as Wade waved back. “Hi Wade,” she said. 

“Hi Yukio. How’s my favourite precious magic girl? Yukio, this is Silver. Silver, Yukio.” 

“Ellie,” Negasonic said, when Silver looked over at her. 

Wade frowned at her. “What, you have a non-pretend name? I thought your actual name was Negasonic Age-Appropriate Warhead.”

Negasonic flipped him the bird, even as Yukio scanned something and opened the door into the Cerebro chamber. “All set,” she told Wade cheerfully. 

Cable spoke quietly to Silver, looked at another photograph, then stepped onto the Cerebro platform. He looked around with visible awe, running his fingertips over the chair and the Cerebro console. “Never thought I’d actually walk inside here. I’ve seen replicas. Nothing life-sized.” 

“Can we save the memory lane shit for another day?” Wade called from the door. “Seriously, nobody cares.” 

“Fuck off, Wilson,” Cable said. He looked the console over. Orange holograms darted up from his arm, running some program that interfaced with the Cerebro console, lighting it up. Then Cable sat down and pulled the headset down. 

Nothing happened. 

Nope, still nothing. 

“Huh.” Wade looked around. “I kinda thought from the films that there would be lots of exploding epilepsy-enabling imagery blowing off those silver panel things. Did we run over budget already?”

“It’s telepathy, not fireworks, dipshit. This usually takes a while,” Negasonic said, leaning against the wall. 

“So, how’s school?” Wade asked Yukio, in as syrupy a tone as he could manage. Negasonic scowled. Wade ended up talking to Yukio and Russell about assignments, the details of which, okay, were starting to melt his brain a little, but thankfully at the melting point of no return Cable sucked in a sharp breath and pulled the Cerebro unit off his head. 

“She’s alive,” Cable said, getting to his feet. 

Silver squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she let out a shaky breath. “Thank God. Where? Is she all right?” 

“Underground. Some sort of holding cell. She doesn’t know where. Research facility, maximum security.” Cable walked back over, rubbing his temple as though trying to knead out a headache. 

“That’s… not very helpful,” Wade said sourly. “Maybe you should go back in there and take Cerebro for another spin. Get useful details like, I don’t know, an _actual fucking location_.” 

“What sort of research facility?” Silver asked tensely.

“I haven’t finished,” Cable told Wade, annoyed. To Silver he said, more gently, “Researching mutants. I’ve seen places like that before, in my time. Finding it’s going to be rough, let alone getting in and out. But we’ve got a lead. Arlette tried to escape a week or so ago. She didn’t get far, but she did see some documentation. The facility belongs to Essex Corp.” 

“Essex!” Russell stiffened up. 

Cable eyed him warily. “Like the orphanage, yeah.” 

“Got any future insights about this?” Wade asked.

Cable stared at Russell for a moment longer, then he shook his head. “Nope.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, looking away. 

O-kay. Wade shuffled a little closer to Russell, just in case there was a psychotic Terminator freak-out and he had to intervene. “I’ll call Weasel. He might know something about Essex Corp,” Wade said.

“Domino might know something. She’s from the orphanage too,” Russell said. “I can call her and find out. She’s nice. Checks in on me and the other kids now and then.” 

“Good call about Domino but no, you and the other kiddies are all going back to your geometry classes or whatever.”

Russell glowered at him. “If you’re going up against Essex Corp I want to help.” 

“You’re _fourteen_. I think you’ve been through enough child endangerment in your lifetime,” Wade said. 

“Yeah, like the teenagers here don’t all go on missions!” 

True. “… Really should have put you into foster care.” 

“You’re discriminating. Like the industry. You just have something against me trying to be a superhero.” Russell folded his arms over his chest. 

“I’m not being paid to babysit anyone and I’m already losing money on this job as it is,” Wade growled. “Yukio, help me here please.” 

Yukio placed a hand lightly on Russell’s arm. “It’s okay. We usually just wait until the older people go to sleep and then we can do what we want.” 

“Can probably get it counted towards our civic responsibility score,” Negasonic said. 

“I’m gonna tip off social services and get them to raid this place,” Wade muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Messing with comics characters to fit them into a Deadpool-esque movieverse. 
> 
> Refs:  
> https://www.cbr.com/deadpool-movie-comics-differences/  
> http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/joint-task-force-2-canada-s-elite-fighters-1.873657  
> http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/special-forces-women-1.4479883


	2. Chapter 2

“Mister Weasel had to move interstate for a family matter,” Dopinder said, as he sat at the desk in the back room office and typed furiously on a laptop, “but I’ve already been working with Miss Domino on tracing Essex Corp over the past few weeks so this was a bit more of the same.” 

Domino grinned, lounging against the wall beside the corkboard. She gave Cable a little wave, and he nodded gravely in response. Ignoring her, Wade marched past to peer at Dopinder’s screen. “And why have you guys been doing that?” Wade asked. 

“Felt good saving all those kids out of that orphanage. Thought there might be more of them out there. Turns out I was right. Just couldn’t find them. Yet,” Domino said. Dressed in a faux fur-lined khaki jacket over a blouse and jeans, with her Uzi holstered at her hip, Domino looked less 80s’ Blaxploitation today. More Edgy College Student. She studied Silver curiously but said nothing when Wade didn’t introduce them.

Wade, Silver, and Cable had returned to Sister Margaret’s after calling ahead. And after Wade had roped Colossus into doing a spot of babysitting. He didn’t care about Negasonic Whatever, but if Russell got into trouble or worse—if Yukio broke a nail or something because of this—Wade would never forgive himself. For at least a chapter or two. 

“As far as we can tell Essex Corp is a private contractor,” Dopinder said, bringing up an eye-meltingly dense sheet of statistics. “They run ’facilities’ around the world. Orphanages, special-needs schools. Other things that I haven’t figured out. All under shell companies based out of Panama. It’s hard to trace.”

“Orphanages?” Silver grimaced. “Kidnapping Arlette and her team is one thing, but these people take _children_?” 

“Oh yeah,” Domino said, and smiled, mirthless.

“So they’re like Evil McXavier but on a global scale,” Wade said, thinking it over. “Although, if you think about it, Xavier forever sending the X-Kids on ‘missions’ to interfere with everyone else’s business is kinda like exploiting unpaid child labour. He can’t keep writing that shit off as school trips.” 

“I don’t know who Mister McXavier is,” Dopinder said conscientiously, “but it’s estimated that there are probably around 30 million mutants in the world at any point in time. Not all of them can pass for human or hide. Depending on the country many of them get pushed into places like that orphanage.”

“Okay, that’s enough exposition about the sad state of humanity squeezed into a dated metaphor for segregation,” Wade said sourly. “Arlette’s held somewhere in a maximum security research facility. Underground. Please tell me this Super Secret Underground Research Base is listed on the books.” 

“Sorry Mister Pool,” Dopinder said apologetically. “I looked and looked and all the listed properties in Essex Corp so far don’t seem to fit the bill. And I haven’t been able to trace any subsidiaries. So I hacked Canada’s, um, Department of National Defense—”

“What.” Wade blinked.

“—and pieced together some deleted files on their servers. Alpha Flight’s first mission was to investigate the ‘Sunset House’ in Libya.” Dopinder pushed over a Post-It note with a location scribbled on it. “That’s all I could get. Everything else’s too encrypted or damaged.” 

Silver snatched up the note. “That’s more than what my contacts could get. Thank you.” Her hand clenched tightly over the note, and she managed a wan smile. “Maybe you’re not such a long shot after all, Wilson.” 

Wade stroked Dopinder’s hair tenderly. “Dopinder, you are hereby now my Favourite Minion. I hope Weasel never comes back.” 

“Thank you Mister Pool,” Dopinder said, staring back adoringly. “I try very hard.” 

Cable cleared his throat pointedly. “So. Libya?” 

“We’re going to check this place out?” Domino asked, brightening up. “Cool. I’ve never gone overseas before. Let alone to Africa. Should be fun.” 

“Chill, Lucky Charms. Wall-E and I are going. We don’t have the budget to include people with imaginary superpowers,” Wade told her. 

Domino shrugged, settling back against the wall. “What happened to your ‘We’re X-Force’ schtick?” 

“That’s for painfully altruistic jobs that pay only in warm fuzzy feels. For everything else, there’s MasterCard. And Visa. I take everything but AmEx.” Fuck AmEx and its 2% surcharge. 

“I’m going as well,” Silver said. She glowered at Wade as he started to object. “Just fucking try and stop me.” 

“Sure. Empowering women, angry tiger mom, whatever, I’m all for it. You do you, and I’ve always been a fan of working out my problems with the maximum amount of violence. I’ve only got one teeny question. If you die, do I still get paid?” Wade asked hopefully. 

“You’re all heart, jackass,” Cable growled. “She’s the boss. She wants to come, she comes.” 

“I told you, it’s rent money. Nothing personal. Also, you probably should’ve rerun that piece of dialogue over in your head before you said it,” Wade muttered. “Fine. Dopinder, that’s three for an express courier to Tripoli. Plus gear.” 

“Yes Mister Pool, I’ll book that in.” Dopinder typed for a moment. “Next slot’s in an hour. Usual place.” 

“Great. Just enough time for us to buy some emergency chimichangas. My treat,” Wade told Silver, who pulled a face, “because if you die of hunger this will end up being a really short gig, and I do want to at least start shooting people very soon.” 

“I don’t even know what a ‘chimichanga’ is,” Silver said. 

“God, we’re a little deprived in Canada. It’s a deep-fried burrito. You can thank me later.” 

“A… what? Ugh. I’m not hungry.” 

“Probably should eat,” Cable told her quietly. 

“Nobody asked for your opinion, John Connor. And my offer of a treat doesn’t extend to you.” Wade paused. “Just checking. Once we end up in Libya. Silver, are you going to be playing a supervisory role or—”

“What do you think?” Silver cut in.

“… Direct contact with the enemy it is. Never a good idea for a CO. When’s the last time you used a gun?” 

Silver scowled. “Fuck off, limpdick. Bet I could still shoot off your balls at three klicks with a scope. Want to try me?” 

“I like her,” Domino said, grinning lazily. 

“You brought gear?” Wade asked, ignoring Domino.

Silver nodded. “Hit up a gun show on my way down, so yeah, I’m stocked up. It’s in my car.” 

“Gotta love the US of A,” Wade said brightly.

#

Domino watched them go. “Sorry for calling you down, Miss Domino,” Dopinder said apologetically. “When Mister Pool said he was on a job and he was bringing Mister Cable I thought it was an X-Force thing.”

“Not a problem. I find things generally work out,” Domino said, indifferent. Life had never conspired to waste her time, even when she tried to get it to. 

“Essex Corp has been trying to hide its tracks and move some of its facilities around ever since we blew up the one near New York,” Dopinder said, bringing up other spreadsheets, “so I’m still trying to trace your next possible target. I don’t have anything else for you.”

“They’ve had a long time to get all this down pat. It’s okay.” 

“You said you escaped from the orphanage that burned down? How did you even end up in there in the first place?” 

“Mom gave me up to foster care. Don’t know why. Never cared. They took a blood test, realized I had the mutant gene, and shipped me off to the Home.” Domino’s lip curled. “Ten years I spent there while they tried to work out what made me tick. They thought it was maybe a strong latent ability. They were kinda right there. The older I got, the stronger it got. One day I walked out and didn’t even have to look back.” 

“And now you have,” Dopinder said encouragingly. 

“And now I’m here,” Domino agreed. “I really appreciate you helping me out. I thought you were going to go into the merc business. Not take over the bar.” 

“Oh, well, there’s no healthcare or dental in mercenary work and after I thought it over, I knew I had to be more practical,” Dopinder said wistfully. “It’s good to have big dreams, but not so good when your big dreams also involve a high chance of suffering a horrible death.” 

“True that,” Domino said. She stretched, yawning. “Suppose I’ll get going.”

Dopinder walked her out to the bar. Just as they started to pass the bar counter, the small tv in the wall bracket switched away from sports to CNN. “Breaking news,” the newscaster said seriously into the camera, “a fire has broken out in an ICE detention centre in southern Texas, melting part of the wall and injuring ten people. Believed to be possibly mutant in origin, officials say that the escape attempt is now under control.” 

“Wait, I know that place.” Dopinder retreated to the back office. He returned minutes later, toting his laptop. “It’s a private detention centre. Essex Corp runs it on behalf of ICE. No mention of mutants even on their internal database, but they did have photos of the centre on file.” 

Domino smiled to herself as the newscaster droned on. “Texas it is.” Lady Luck was a relentless mistress.

“I could drive you down, but I’ll have to close the bar down for days,” Dopinder said doubtfully. 

“That’s okay. I’ll find my own ride,” Domino said, even as there was the sound of a dull overhead roar. The other patrons of Sister Margaret’s looked around in confusion, their hands going to various weaponry as the glasses and bottles behind the bar counter shook and rattled. The sound eased. Minutes after, Russell and two vaguely familiar X-kids piled through the door, all dressed up in black and yellow.

“Aww.” Russell’s face fell. “Doesn’t look like Wade’s here anymore.” 

The kid with the short black hair beside him shrugged, patting his shoulder. “Them’s the breaks. We did take pretty long. Shaking off Colossus to steal the plane was trickier than usual.” 

Plane? Domino grinned, sauntering over. “Russell. How’s things?”

“Ooh, Miz Domino. Didn’t see you there sorry! Um. You’ve probably met Ellie—er, Negasonic Teenage Warhead—”

“Ellie’s fine,” Ellie said. 

“—and this is Yukio.” Russell nodded at a perky Asian girl with neon pink hair, who smiled and waved. 

“Hi Domino. Nice to see you again,” Yukio said.

“We were kinda looking for Wade? Is he here?” Russell asked.

“He’s gone off to Libya,” Domino said.

“Aww _man_. I wanted to help Miz Silver save her niece too.” Russell pulled a face. “Got to start being a superhero somewhere, y’know?”

“I’ve got an idea about that,” Domino said lightly. “How about we save some other people instead? We might find information about Miss Silver’s niece in the process. I’ve got a lead on something and it just so happens that I need a lift.” 

Russell brightened. “Hell _yeah_.” 

Ellie sucked on her teeth. “Don’t know about that. Going with your guardian on a trip is one thing. This is something else.” 

“It’s gonna be _fine_ ,” Russell disagreed enthusiastically. “This is going to be great. Let’s all get our civic responsibility on. Uhnf!” 

Domino raised her eyebrows. “That’s the spirit.”

#

“Not sure I like this,” Cable said, picking his way through his chimichanga. They were in a Gulfstream en route to Libya, on the efficient and discreet ‘courier’ service that ferried mercs interstate or around the globe. Sadly it didn’t come with much in-flight entertainment or food, though it did have an onboard armory and a lot of alcohol.

On the seat across the aisle from Cable, Wade shook his head slowly. “Your Terminator bits have fried your taste buds. Sad.” He had his boots propped up on the table before his seat, his mask pulled up just far enough for him to mash some delicious chimichangas down his throat. 

Silver had eaten some of hers to show willing and had given Wade the leftovers. She was now curled in a seat at the front of the plane, sleeping the sleep of the utterly exhausted. Cable followed Wade’s stare. “How long have you guys known each other?” 

“Can’t you just pick that out of my brain?” 

“You want me to?” 

“You can shut that off?” 

Cable sniffed. “I learned how to wall myself up when I was twelve. Prefer not to look too closely. Most people you meet tend to be fucked up in some way or other.” 

“Don’t need telepathy to learn that about me,” Wade said. He wiped greasy fingers over his pants, scrunched up his wrapper, and picked up Silver’s leftovers, washing down his portion with a healthy swig of beer. 

“Eh, you’re not so bad.”

“Really?” Wade was intrigued. “Either sociopathy is the norm in the future, or you don’t have a lot of friends.” 

“The people I used to hunt…” Cable trailed off. Ate some of his chimichanga. “Yeah. Could say I didn’t meet a lot of nice people in my old line of work.” 

“So you were a cop?”

“Not really. More of a soldier.” 

“Weasel mentioned you said something about that. ‘Born into war, bred into it’ huh? Is everyone in the future this dramatic? Who were you fighting anyway, the Russians? Chinese?” 

“It’s not like that. There was a time where the mutant genome was dying out. Then it came back with a vengeance. Sparked off a lot of wars.” 

“Nice try, but I don’t think we can really tie the events of ‘Logan’ into this timeline,” Wade said. Siiigh. Only Logan got to be in a cool Fallout-esque filmverse for an entire fucking film. Fuck Hugh Jackman. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t the only problem. Climate change got a lot worse. Large parts of the world turned unliveable. Extinction event set off a cascade. Oceans all got choked up with plastic and worse. Rest of us just fought over what was left.” 

“So how the hell did Russell survive to get that old?” Wade frowned. “Wait a minute. Did you just have the wrong guy all along? You said we’d all be dead by the time your future rolls around!” 

Cable grunted. “In my timeline he’s one of the Hellfire Kings. Immortal warlords holding territories and resources by force. Don’t know how he survived that long. Secondary mutation maybe.” 

“I see _someone’s_ still trying their best to staple the continuity together.” Talk about an exercise in futility. Wade felt depressed all over again. He shoveled the remains of Silver’s dinner into his mouth and washed down the greasy goodness with the last of his soda. For all that Cable had complained about his food, he finished it anyway. Cable wiped his hands down on the paper towels in the pack and lay back in his chair with a grunt, his metallic side creaking and whirring. 

“How’re you finding the merc life?” Wade asked, trying not to look too fascinated. “Heard you’ve started to take on work.” 

“Life’s easier in peace time,” Cable said.

“Seen a way to unfuck the world yet?” 

“Not yet.” Cable didn’t even sound fazed by the enormity of the job. Wade could respect the man’s balls, if not his ego. 

“Lord give me the confidence of an old white dude from the future,” Wade said and snickered. “You know, you could maybe do a lot of good by just moving to Washington and lurking around whenever Congress is in session. Or do it with Cerebro.” 

“Don’t have the strength for something like that.”

“… Probably a good thing,” Wade decided. Cable _had_ spent most of a two-hour film trying to murder a child. He had zero chill. “You should try this app called Tinder. Could help. Make you less grimdark. Surely there’s somebody out there into scarred sociopathic cyborgs. Might even work out for you in this job.”

Cable glanced over at him with an odd look on his face. “How’s that?” 

“I know narrative arcs. You’re old, single, and you’ve lost your daughter. Silver over there’s getting on in years, possibly single, possibly lost her niece. Women characters in the Hollywood machine always get shoehorned into being love interests, villains, fridging devices, or peripheral ballbreakers. Kinda thought she was the latter but I was wrong. She’s ex-special forces, gonna be hard to kill. Pretty sure she’s not the villain. So.” 

Cable snorted. “You’ve got serious issues.” 

“I reserve the right to say I told you so ten chapters from now when you guys get down and dirty,” Wade leered. 

To his annoyance, instead of sputtering or snarling at him, Cable merely smirked back at him. “She ain’t the one I’m interested in on this job, pretty boy.” 

“Ha. Funny.” Those kinds of insults were low hanging fruit, as far as Wade was concerned. He let his seat down as flat as it could go and curled up, trying to get comfortable. Cable stared at him for a moment, then looked out of the airplane window at the dark clouds that flowed by in uneven banks beneath the plane. 

“You got a plan for where we’re going?” Cable asked.

“Charging in all guns blazing generally works for me.” Wade paused. “I guess we could leave one guy alive and question him.” 

“Great plan,” Cable said, sarcastic. “I see why you’re the leader of your team. X-Force, was it?”

“In this continuity yes, in other, less fun and self-aware continuities sadly no. It was fun though,” Wade said, crossing himself reverently. “R.I.P. Peterbear. I’ll always remember you.” 

“I’d prefer to do some recon. Scope out the area. Do some legwork. Don’t want to alert Essex Corp that we’re on their tail. They might kill Arlette or worse.”

“Says the guy whose planning, last I saw, extended to traveling back in time, blasting his way into a prison, and mowing through everything in his way. Yeah, you can totally do subtlety.” 

Cable eyed Wade coolly. “You did ‘subtle’ right after your wife died?” 

Wade dug his fingernails into his palms. Took a long moment before he remembered to breathe. Let the past and the pain ease. “Okay. You've made your point,” he said tightly.

Cable blinked owlishly for a moment. “Ah hell. Sorry I said that. Went too far.” 

“Fuck you,” Wade growled. He pulled his mask down and closed his eyes. 

Resentment burned dully in his gut and his trigger fingers itched, but his scabbards and holsters were safely stowed. Wade waited and tried to slow down his breathing, but just like the days before, the Ness Dream never came. Yet another thing Cable had fucked up. 

Wade had been so _close_. He’d touched something like heaven for a moment, in a nice, clean world where he was whole again, worthy again, where Ness had been waiting for him to start something new together. Then Wade had been hauled back into the grey world that was all that was left to him without Ness within it. And for what? Because Cable had felt guilty? Fuck him. Wade grit his teeth. Choked down a breath. Tried to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refs:  
> https://scifi.stackexchange.com/questions/178205/how-many-mutants-were-there-on-earth-at-one-time-in-marvel-comics  
> Plastic crisis: https://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2018/06/plastic-planet-waste-pollution-trash-crisis/?src=longreads


	3. Chapter 3

“‘Things tend to work out’ is not a good plan,” Ellie hissed. “It’s not even _a_ plan.” 

“Always worked for me,” Domino said. They were crouched in the scrubland close to the road that wound down to the fortified compound far beyond, visible only as a grid of light in the dark. Any closer and the X-Plane or whatever the hell it was called would probably have set off the alarm. They’d left the plane in question behind some hilly ground some distance away. 

Ellie let out a deep sigh, and Yukio kneaded her shoulders soothingly. Beside her, Russell was all but vibrating with excitement. “So we just charge right through the front gate? Ellie and I can blast us in.”

“Let’s… not do that,” Ellie said, making a face. “We will seriously piss off the Professor. That’s a government facility.”

“Privately run. By the orphanage people. For ICE. In the Cheetolini era. That’s scum to the power of four.” Russell scowled into the distance. “I say we stick it to the Man. Stage a jailbreak to end all jailbreaks.” 

“We’re not here to burn the place down. Or kill anyone,” Domino said. “We just need to get in quietly, find what we’re looking for, and get out. If we can fuck them up while we’re in there, good, but I don’t want to get into an all-out slugfest.” Not with kids to keep safe under her wing. 

“Information on Arlette? Why would that be in there?” Ellie asked skeptically. “Or do you think she’s here? She’s a Canadian citizen. This is really far south of the border.” 

Domino started to answer, then crouched down instead at the distant sound of an engine. A dark van was coming down the road. The kids flattened themselves down to the dirt. Just as the van came close enough for Domino to read its number plate, a stag leaped out in front of the van. The van swerved to avoid it, tyres squealing. It slewed to a halt off-road, just a hop and a step away from where they were hiding. 

The driver’s door was shoved open and a uniformed guard stepped out. “Jesus, Jimmy. Did we hit it?” 

Domino surged up. She cracked the guard’s head hard against the side of the van and did it again until the guard stopped hollering and grabbing at her arm. Something that looked like an electric whip hissed past and into the van, dragging out another guard, banging his head against the door of the van. As he tried to get dizzily to his feet, the other two kids pounced. 

Well, that wasn’t so bad. “Good work, team,” Domino said. Russell grinned. 

Domino tried on one of the guards’ uniforms for size as the kids zip-tied the now-unconscious guards with bindings that they found in the glove compartment. Patting down the guards for keys, she went over to the back of the van and opened it up. Within were a couple of frightened skinny brown boys. Probably around the same age as the kids. 

“Ah, shit.” Domino studied them closely. One kid had a suppression collar, the other didn’t. 

Russell peered in behind her. “Oh. Uh. Hey guys. It’s okay now. Um. Do you guys speak English?” 

Yukio stepped around him. “Hola,” she said, then said something in Spanish. The boys lit up, both of them talking breathlessly over each other and gesturing at the collar. Yukio nodded and beckoned, smiling. The kids got out of the van cautiously, staring as they noticed the zip-tied guards in the underbrush. 

“Someone called ICE on them in the town close by,” Yukio translated. “Miles here got away but his friend Juan didn’t, so Miles had to come back.” Miles nodded, poking at his collar.

Russell poked at the collar with a penknife until the cover came up. He looked hopefully over at Domino. “Lucky number?”

“Hm. Nine?” 

Russell keyed it in. Nothing happened. “Uh. Want to try again?” 

“Two?” 

Still nothing. Hm. Great time for Lady Luck to take a break. Unless… “I think this is meant to be part of the plan,” Domino said. “We can’t get the collar off. Tell him that he’s free to go, but it’s going to be pretty hard for him to hide that or get out of it. But if they’d help us break in to the compound, we might find something in there that’ll unlock it. And I promise I’ll get the both of them safely out afterwards.” 

Yukio spoke quietly to the boys, who looked at each other. Miles looked unhappily at Domino, then at the van. He reluctantly started to climb back in, stiffening as Russell followed. 

“Guess this is how we all get in,” Russell said, sitting in the corner. “Hi. I’m Russell. You’re a mutant? We’re mutants too.” 

“Ellie,” Ellie said, pointing to herself as she got in. As Yukio climbed in next and sat beside her, Juan grudgingly climbed in, wedging himself beside his friend. Good thing Domino had made Russell and the others change out of their godawful spandex outfits on the plane to something less obviously branded. 

“Okay kids. Let’s hope this works.” Domino closed the doors as Ellie started to frown, and jogged back to the front of the van.

#

At the security post, the guard who started to ask Domino for her ID card cursed as he accidentally knocked his cup of coffee over his keyboard. He waved her through, frantically mopping up the mess. “We’re in,” Domino said into her earpiece, as they rolled through the checkpoint. “Everything okay back there?”

“We should use our codenames,” Russell whispered through his. “This is so cool. Like Mission Impossible, but without the Scientologist. Like James Bond, but without the bitter martini guy.”

“Stay focused,” Ellie told him. “When we’re in there, keep an eye on Miles and Juan. Both our powers have knockback. We’ll use them to maintain a safe perimeter.” 

“A what?” Russell asked. 

“Blast anyone who gets too close,” Yukio said. 

“Right. I like that. I’m down with that.” 

“No blasting anyone until I say so,” Domino told them firmly. Kids. Another guard was waving her through towards a squat block with a hangar door, probably the main processing centre. 

A guard stopped the van at the entrance. “Late night?” he asked. 

“Looking forward to the end,” Domino said, smiling. 

“You and me both, sister. What’ve you got in there?”

“One mutant and four normies.” 

“Mutie? Hell. Must’ve been a scrap. You new? Where’s your partner?” The guard asked, squinting at her through the window. Domino smiled, her hand lowering to her lap where her gun was, only for there to be a shout from the other side of the processing bay. Some altercation from another van. A woman started screaming as a child was pulled away from her. The men with her lunged for the guards holding the child, knocking one guard over. “Shit!” The guard talking to Domino hurried away. 

“What’s that out there?” Ellie asked.

“A distraction.” Domino took the van around the parking bays just as a forklift backed out from behind a wall of crated supplies, trundling out. Domino slotted the van neatly into the space it had just vacated. She got out and opened the back door, holding up a finger to her lips. 

“Now what?” Russell whispered as the kids piled out quietly. Miles and Juan stared at the facility around them, round-eyed. 

“There’s probably some sort of central control room,” Domino said. “A friend and I have been studying Essex documents for weeks. Lots of them are built around the same lines. We should be able to get Miles’ collar off from there. Then we download what we can get off the servers and get out.” 

“Okay. Easy.” Yukio said brightly. 

Domino peeked around the crates. The detainees were gone, and the guards were talking near the entrance. There was a door just past the crates with a black access panel beside it. Domino sidled over and scanned her stolen pass. There was a dull electronic buzz as it unlocked. Domino pushed the door open into an empty corridor and waved the kids quickly through. 

Yukio wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?” she asked. 

“Eau de Prison,” Domino said. Human waste, vomit, misery. It was a familiar scent. She glanced at Russell, who looked back up at her grimly. “We good?” 

“Smells like the Home,” Russell said quietly. “But a lot worse.” 

“Just like Home,” Domino agreed, with an ironic curl to her mouth. “You going to be okay doing this?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Russell crackled his knuckles. “Unfh! Civic responsibility.” 

“Please stop saying that.” Domino picked a direction and started walking. The kids tagged along behind her, whispering to each other as they went. 

“…Yeah I can make things blow up with fire. Ellie here has a concussive force thing. Yukio can electrify stuff… you can walk on walls and disappear? Like, become invisible? More like a spider? Spiders don’t… you mean like a chameleon. That’s _siiick_.” 

“Quiet down back there,” Domino said. She peered out of the end of the corridor and flattened quickly against the wall, motioning everyone to do the same.

Thankfully, the two passing staff didn’t even notice. They were ambling by, holding coffees. “…still repairing the electrostatic field,” said Large Moustache. “Goddamned animals.”

“Next convoy’s due in the morning,” No Moustache said soothingly. “They’d take all the muties off our hands. The collars are good enough until then.” 

“Those collars are a goddamned security disaster waiting to happen. They’re all keyed to an override in the control room. Frankly, I don’t see why we shouldn’t just shoot them all. Like anyone would notice.”

“Essex Corp wants them for research purposes. Hell, I heard the higher-ups were pissed as all hell that we shot the one who nearly got out.” 

“Kid gloves it is. Until the morning.” 

The staff walked out of sight. Domino breathed out. “Please let me at least set their hair on fire,” Russell whispered from beside her. 

“Tempting. Maybe later.” Domino led them away from the pair. Deciding on locations at random, they eventually ended up at a dead end corridor with a door at the very end. As Domino walked up to it, the door opened, one guard backing out and laughing, empty coffee mug in hand. 

Domino punched him in the throat. As the guard doubled over, coughing, Ellie slapped him hard against the wall with a bubble of force. Yukio darted through into the security room, her electrified whip snaking around the guard reaching for a panic button and dragging him bodily off his chair, shocking him until he went still. The boys jumped on the last guard, hauling him off his chair. Someone got a lucky punch in—he went quiet.

As the kids zip-tied the guards together with binds Miles found in a supply kit, Domino sat down at the console, rubbing her hands. “What’s that?” Russell asked, walking over and pointing at one of the CCTV screens. “Looks like a lot of aluminium foil-wrapped sausages packed together.”

“It’s people. Thermal blankets. They like to keep things cold in these places. Stops people from complaining. Or thinking about escape.” Domino studied the controls with a frown. 

“Seriously? So that’s a room full of people? They’re packed together all over the floor!” Russell pulled a face. “Urgh. Beginning to wish my family never migrated from New Zealand.” 

“That why you’re in America?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah. Was supposed to be an awesome thing, you know? A new life in the ‘shining city on the hill’. Then I set fire to the drapes that one time when I was ten. Mum freaked out. Kicked me over to the Home.” Russell glared at the CCTV screens. “This is worse. We’ve got to help these people.” 

“‘General security override’,” Yukio said, reading the labels off a lever. She pushed it, or tried to—it was stuck. Juan came over with a passcard from one of the guards, slotting it in next to the lever. This time, when Yukio pushed it, there was a dull buzz. The collar light at Miles’ neck flicked green and it loosened. He hauled it off with a gasp, throwing the collar across the room. 

As the kids started enthusiastically pushing all the override levers, Domino pressed a few random buttons. There was a soft hiss, and a metal block the size of a thick book slotted out of the console. Hard disks? Domino pulled it out of the slot. A glance back at the CCTV told her that all the security doors were open. A healthy riot was starting to break out. 

Domino grinned as an alarm started to peal. “Jailbreak to end all jailbreaks, huh?”

“All _right_ ,” Russell whooped, his hands starting to glow. “Maximum effort.”

#

When they landed in a private airfield just out of Tripoli and there was reception again, Wade’s phone vibrated so much that it threw itself off the table. Scooping it up, Wade found five missed calls from the Mansion and a shitload of breathless texts from Russell.

“Something come up?” Cable asked, getting up from his seat. He’d been conciliatory the whole flight. 

“Kid stuff. It’ll keep.” Whatever it was. By now, Wade was used to Russell excitedly texting him anything from midnight fanboy screeds about LeBron James to Captain America memes, and had long developed a healthy brain filter for all of it. Wade pocketed his phone. “Ready to roll?” 

Silver had a pistol holstered to her hip and had slung her long duffel bag over her shoulder. “Ready,” she said. As they stepped out into the late afternoon heat, Silver scanned the dusty airfield with a strange look on her face. 

Wade knew the feeling. He’d experienced it himself, the first time he’d done a merc gig on soil he’d tread before with the Special Forces. “That old FEBA feeling eh, whistle head?” Over a decade of military service had sadly burned its vocabulary into his brain. 

Silver laughed. “Let’s get to the fightin’ and dyin’, trooper.” 

“C’mon, don’t tell me they don’t have military slang in the future,” Wade said, as Cable gave them a bemused look. 

He grunted. “We do. Language changes over time. To me, the both of you sound like you’re reciting lines out of a pre-War mil-hist doco.” 

“Keep up and don’t shit the bed, rental.” Wade smacked himself across the jaw, making Silver flinch. “Ergh. Okay. Think I’ve gotten all the ‘hooah!’ stuff out of my system now. God.” 

Silver grimaced. “That’s not the only thing I want out of my system. Wish you didn’t _only_ pack fucking chimichangas for the whole trip here. I don’t think my stomach’s ever going to recover from the trauma.”

The courier service also provided the keys to a beat-up old Toyota which had a map folded on the dashboard. As Silver started it up, Wade slouched into the front passenger seat with Cable in the back with the rest of the gear. “We’re ‘bout half an hour out from Tripoli. Probably an hour out from the ‘Sunset House’.” Wade started to unfold the map, only for Cable to grab it from him. His arm computer-thinger scanned it, then projected a little map against the dash, with their location and the Sunset House marked in blips. A suggested route started blinking against the terrain. 

“Well, that’s useful,” Wade said. “I think I’m starting to like you again, Alexa.” 

“Good to see that I can get you to like me for something,” Cable said and smirked in the rearview mirror. 

“I like your gun,” Wade conceded, as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the bumpy road. “It’s big, it’s awesome.”

“Not the only part of the package that’s big,” Cable said. He slouched heavily against the worn fabric of the backseat, watching the desert sprawl go past.

Wade rolled his eyes. “Yeah, how could I forget your massive, sociopathic ego.” 

“Seriously, you two,” Silver growled. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s just trying to grow his sense of humour,” Wade told her. “Pathetic effort, I know. By the way, Lieutenant, I’ve always wondered.” 

“What now?” Silver asked warily.

“Is your name really ‘Jhimon’? ‘Cos that just sounds like a name thought up by some white comic book writer guys who’ve maybe never met any Asians before,” Wade said. He didn’t understand Cantonese and had only a basic grasp of Mandarin, but he was pretty sure ‘Jhimon’ wasn’t a dialect thing.

Silver let out a sharp laugh. “I was born in Hong Kong. Think I got off lightly, English name wise. Couple of my cousins got named Romeo and Juliet. They’re siblings.” 

“… Ouch.” 

“Pretty sure they changed their names after they left home,” Silver said. She grimaced as the car went heavily over a pothole. “Been to Libya recently? Feels quiet.” 

They were the only car on the road for as far as Wade could see. He shook his head. “Nope. Just that one time we went through Tripoli on our way out to Sudan.” 

Silver pulled a face. “Ah yeah. That went FUBAR real quick.” 

Cable snorted. “That part of the world stays FUBAR. They get fucked by climate change and stay fucked.” 

Silver met Cable’s eyes through the rearview window. “So what’s your story? Army?” 

“Yeah,” Cable said. 

“Desert Storm?” Silver asked. Cable shook his head. 

“This is going to sound fucked up,” Wade said, “but he really is from far into the future. Came back to kill someone who killed his wife and kid, but he can’t go back because he used his time machine to stop me from dying.” 

Silver processed this as Cable let out a sigh. “Why are you still taking merc jobs if you could just sell your time machine for ridiculous money? Got to be worth something even if you broke it.” Silver asked, after a long pause. 

Huh. That’s right. A time machine _would_ be worth retire-in-the-Bahamas money. Wade narrowed his eyes even as Cable said, “Might find a way to get it fixed someday.” 

“And you’re friends with Wilson here because…?” 

Cable’s mouth quirked up at an edge. “Eye candy?” 

“You’ve got to diversify your insults,” Wade said, shaking his head sadly, “or you’d sound like a one trick pony.”

“Says the man who only knows Terminator jokes,” Cable said. 

“Challenge accepted,” Wade muttered, even as Silver said, “Jesus, you two, get a room. Long drive ahead. I’m already getting depressed.”

“Thanks for the input, crouching tiger. By the way, the only reason you have a more than token presence is probably because the writer’s also Asian.” This was a Marvel story after all.

“After I pay you, I’m going to shoot you,” Silver told Wade sourly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romeo and Juliet anecdote is a true story, haha (I'm not from HK, but the HK siblings of a friend of mine are called Romeo and Juliet). 
> 
> Refs:  
> Inside ICE processing centres. Graphic imagery: http://thememoryhole2.org/blog/150-more-photos  
> Canadian military slang (cw: as with a lot of military slang, contains homophobic language) https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Appendix:Canadian_English_military_slang


	4. Chapter 4

Arlette Tang woke shivering as the lights banked on with a dull electronic buzz. Curled in her meagre blanket, she pressed her back against the cold stone wall and shut her eyes, counting to ten. The heavy stone all around her felt like it was crushing her down. Grinding her into the dirty mattress and the steel bunk, into the stench of the cell block, into her misery and despair. She scratched raw fingers against the collar on her neck, then forced her hands into fists. Breathed. 

“Top of the class,” Arlette whispered to herself. “I’m proud of me.” She repeated the words until the world felt less small, then she sat up, eyes still shut. Standing up, she walked forward with her hands outstretched. Counted the paces until she touched the opposite wall. Turned. Walked to the door. Touched that. Turned. Walked to the back wall. She opened her eyes. Washed her face. 

Now she could face the heavy steel door. Walking up to it, Arlette knelt, wincing at the effort. Her ribs and jaw still ached from the beating she’d gotten for trying to escape. She lifted the food slot, cheek pressed to the floor. Waited.

Eventually, the food slot on the cell opposite hers in the corridor also lifted. Arlette smiled at the sight of Narya’s face. Narya had already been serving in JTF2 when she’d been recruited into Alpha Flight, and the Inuit veteran was at least five years Arlette’s senior. “Hey,” Arlette mouthed.

“Morning,” Narya mouthed back. Like Arlette, her hair had been buzzed short. The suppression collar around her neck was almost out of sight against the slot. Narya pointed at the fading bruise on Arlette’s eye. Arlette shook her head. It didn’t even hurt that much any longer. Narya frowned, about to say more, then she stilled and shut the food slot. Arlette shut hers as well, getting to her feet. Even without her powers, Narya had the keenest senses in Alpha Flight. She must’ve heard someone coming, out of schedule.

Heavy footsteps came down the corridor, accompanying the roll of the cart. Huh. Breakfast was early today. Something was wrong. Arlette sat on her bunk and pulled up her feet. Her slot was eventually shoved open. A tray of bread smeared with jam and a cup of water was pushed through. Arlette ate and drank, setting the tray back in the slot. An early attempt to escape by making the guards come into her cell to get the tray had gotten her tased and beaten so badly she’d fractured ribs. Now she knew to bide her time. 

After the trays were collected, there was a rhythmic banging sound, a sound Arlette had learned to hate. The Warden, slapping his shock rod against each door on his way down the corridor. She flinched as he banged it against hers. “Listen up, puppies!” the Warden growled. He was a tall man with an intense stare and a fading widow’s peak. Arlette had nearly managed to kill him on her second escape attempt, something that he hadn’t forgotten—when he finished his round he stopped outside her door. 

“Big news y’all. We'll be getting a real special visitor. For a real special event. The bossman’s birthday. That’s right. The head honcho of the Corporation that keeps creatures like you lot locked away from the people of the world. I’m not gonna spoil the surprise, but I know it’s gonna be a treat.” The Warden banged the rod against Arlette’s door. “You still awake, China doll? Tell you a secret. I put your name forward for the event. Personally.” 

Arlette swallowed the retort on her tongue. Forced herself to stay quiet. After a while, the Warden laughed, banged the rod against her door again, and walked away. 

Okay. 

Breathe. 

Arlette curled on her bunk, forcing down her panic. Nevermind the creepy asshole. This was a break in the routine. Breaks were good. Sooner or later the guards would make another mistake, and this time, she’d get all the way out. Find help. Come back with vengeance to give.

She closed her eyes, her breaths shaky. Squeezed away the tears in her eyes. Remembered what Auntie Silver would say. “Don’t get mad,” Arlette whispered to herself, “just get fucking even.”

#

The Sunset House was a heavily guarded compound. The security detail was mostly Libyan, toting AKs as they patrolled the fenced perimeter with dogs. There were sentries in a couple of watchtowers. Within the perimeter was another fenced compound packed with people huddled together in the dirt. Fluorescent lights strung around the compound lit shadows against dirty clothes and a string of squat buildings. There were a few vans parked nearby in a haphazard line in the compound.

“Human traffickers?” Silver guessed. 

“Looks like it,” Wade said. Well, that was depressing. Dead end? “Since when did the motherland care about Libyan slavers?” Wade had, okay, maybe fantasized one or two or many times about Justin Trudeau, but it didn’t make him that sentimental about his country. “And unless standards have dropped, a team of our ninjas would’ve torn through these guys without breaking a sweat.” 

Night had fallen quickly. They were watching the compound from a safe distance with an infrared scope from Silver’s supplies. Cable handed it back to Wade. “You people still have slavery?” he asked, looking disgusted. 

Wade nodded. “Yup. Auctions, even. Think CNN ran a story last year about it with video footage, but nobody cared that much.”

“People didn’t _care_?” Cable said, incredulous.

“Pssh. Refugee crisis, shmefugee crisis. If it doesn’t involve blonde porn stars, it just doesn’t have enough juicy, wet, staying power in the media.” Wade studied the courtyard through the scope. “Anyway, I was thinking. Since we already flew all the way here, we might as well just kill everyone.”

Silver glowered at him. “No.”

“Well, obviously not the prisoners, jeez. I’ve played my share of Time Crisis,” Wade said. Commanding officers with trust issues were the worst. “Aaand yes, we’ll leave alive someone who can tell us maybe what happened to Arlette.” 

Silver nodded, unzipping the duffel bag and pulling out a long rifle with a wooden stock. As she changed the scope, she said, “I’ll cover you boys from up here.”

“Remington 700? Classic,” Wade said, looking at the rifle. “Kinda _too_ classic. Could’ve set you up a C3A1 for old time’s sake if you’d said something earlier.” 

“This will do us fine,” Silver said, waving him off. “Hop to it, trooper.”

Wade started to jog down the slope towards the compound with Cable at his heels. “She good?” Cable asked once they were within sight of the fortified gate. 

“Way back when? Oh yeah. Don’t start with any maple syrup jokes. I swear, I’ve had enough of those and I will fucking end you.” 

“Wasn’t she your CO? What was she doing in the field?” 

“Don’t know. Didn’t care. Still don’t care, actually, other than us maybe not getting paid at the end if she eats a stray bullet.” There was a whistling sound, then another. The watchtower sentry stumbled and fell over. Wade grinned. “Daaayum. That takes me back.” 

“Save the nostalgia for later, Wilson.” Cable was breaking into a run, the Awesome Gun in hand. Once he was within range, the guards at the gate unfroze, raising their rifles. Cable turned up the dial, firing a concussive blast of force that smashed both of the guards against and through the gate. 

Wade caught up, firing from the hip to get the last guard through the chest. “Chillax on the peacocking, Budget Liam Neeson. Pretty sure Silver’s already warmed up to you. She spent the whole trip here—” Wade shot the next guard through the sundered doors, “—with her foot shoved up my ass, but she was nice to you.” 

“Maybe because you’ve been your usual fuckwit self around her?” Cable dialed the gun down to another setting, bracing and firing. A line of bullets stitched into reinforcements pouring out from the closest building. He held up his arm, an orange shield blinking up to absorb return fire. 

Wade sprinted into the compound. “I mean you don’t need to impress Silver. I know when she’s impressed.”

“Yeah? What about you? What gets you impressed?” Cable took cover behind one of the vans. 

Wade reloaded beside him, raising his voice above the screams. “The last time? Shit. Got to think back. Um. It was something I read online. Logan fanfic. Self-insert. Something about _knotting_ and _heat_ and self-lubrication, holy shit, the things people come up with, you would not believe. There were thousands of words even. _Thousands_. And it was free.” 

Cable actually paused to stare up at him, bullets whizzing past. “I have no idea what the hell you just said.” 

“I’ll send you a link after the mission.” Wade vaulted up onto the top of the van, squeezing off a shot that took out a guard behind the line of vans. A guard creeping up from the next van let out a yell, raising his pistol. Double tap in the chest, _ouch_. “I just _washed_ this!” Wade told him, peeved. The guard stared, screamed, dropped his pistol and turned to run. Wade shot him in the back just as another concussive blast punched a hole in the wall of the building beside Wade, collapsing it on someone taking cover behind the window. 

“ _Such_ an awesome gun,” Wade said admiringly. 

Cable let out an amused huff. “Eyes on the prize,” he said, then, “great _shot_ ,” when Wade took out a guy behind the water tank by slotting a shot through its scaffolding. 

Wade grinned. At least Cable was capable of appreciating skill when he saw it. “Eat my dust, Immortan Joe.”

#

Wade chose the auctioneer as the Designated Survivor, because the skinny ferret-like man had hidden himself screaming in the closet once shooting had broken out and because he spoke both Libyan Arabic and some English. Cable had shoved him down into a chair. In the dimly lit room, Cable’s eye glowed like a beacon.

Sitting on the edge of the auction stage, Wade cracked his knuckles and waited. Eventually Silver walked in, rifle slung against her back. Avoiding the bodies, she leaned on the edge beside Wade and folded her arms. 

“Your show, Lieutenant,” Wade said. 

“Wow, you and your dick actually got out of the way. Count me shocked, Wilson,” Silver said, though her lip quirked in amusement. Then she looked at him closely, her smile fading. “Did… did you get shot?” 

“Um.” Wade looked himself over. “Six times I think.”

“The fuck? How are you still—“ Silver paused. “That's right. You mentioned it in passing. Healing factor.” 

“Ding-ding-ding! Give the lady a prize.” 

“Really nothing to do with the Wolverine?”

“Not in this continuity, no.”

Silver frowned. “You can just 'gain' mutant powers later in life? I don’t think you had one when you were in the Force. You’ve been medevaced before. Once on my watch.” 

“Long story. The process of getting it sucked major hairy balls.” 

“… Okay. Tell me later.” Silver turned back to the auctioneer. “How long have you been working here?” she asked. She repeated the question in halting Arabic when the auctioneer whimpered.

Cable shook him roughly by the shoulder until he babbled. “Only a week! A week!” 

“He’s lying,” Cable said, concentrating. “He’s been here for half a year. They had to close operations in the other facility so they moved here.” 

“Wow Alexa. You’re like a Find My Friend, Google Maps, and a lie detector all at once. What other apps can we install? Shazam?” Telepaths _were_ pretty useful, Wade had to concede. 

“That’s your first strike,” Silver told the auctioneer, smiling. “On your next strike, we start breaking fingers. On your third, we shoot you. Understand?” He nodded, shuddering. She pulled a folded photograph from her pockets, of a group of five people in Special Forces gear, mugging for the camera. Silver pushed it into the auctioneer’s face. “Have you seen any of these people before? Look closely. Take your time.” 

The auctioneer’s lips moved as he looked from face to face. “He’s considering lying,” Cable said. “He’s afraid of something. The Sinister Man.” 

“The hell is that? A Stranger Things reference?” Wade wrinkled his nose. 

Cable’s metal hand clenched down over the auctioneer’s shoulder, tightening by degrees until Wade could hear bones grinding against bones. The auctioneer screamed. “Buyer! The big buyer!” he gasped. “Buy all people with magic powers. We sell, he buy. They come, he here. He catch them. Take them away.” 

“The Sinister Man buys any refugee mutants who come through the slave auctions,” Cable said, his eye flaring briefly. “He’s been doing that since the auctions started. He provides places like this with suppression collars.” 

The auctioneer nodded miserably. “We catch journalist. Canada. Hiding outside. Magic powers journalist. We call the Sinister Man. He come. Then these, these also come.” He nodded at the photo. 

“So Alpha Flight was here to rescue a Canadian journalist,” Silver surmised. “But they were defeated by the Sinister Man and captured?” The auctioneer nodded.

“Talk about a spectacular fuckup sandwich. No wonder DND scrubbed the files and tried to hide it,” Wade said. He glowered at Cable. “Don’t. Start about Canadians.” 

“Wasn’t gonna say anything,” Cable said. 

“You were thinking it.”

Cable cracked a sharp smile. “Justin Bieber and Nickelback are Canadian. Just saying.” 

“Ouch. Okay, that actually hurt. Not as much as knowing that they’re still remembered in the far future, but it hurts.” Wade grimaced.

“Do you know where the Sinister Man takes the people he buys?” Silver asked the auctioneer. He shook his head.

“He’s telling the truth,” Cable said. 

“How do you contact the Sinister Man? When you have something to sell?” Silver asked. The auctioneer gave her a number and buried his head in his hands. 

“The Sinister Man doesn’t usually show up in person,” Cable said, watching him closely. “That one time was a fluke. Usually, he waits until there’re at least five mutants before he’d send a convoy. Sometimes Essex Corp takes so long to show up that the 'product' dies in custody.” Cable grimaced. 

“I guess we could call him here and…” Wade trailed off. “Probably wouldn’t work,” he said, at the same time as Silver.

“Even if you two didn’t shoot the fuck out of this place,” Silver said, “it’ll mean keeping those people outside in these conditions for God knows how long more. No. And besides, we don’t have the staff. Can you trace that number? It’s a Libyan number.” 

“Maybe. I’ll send it to Dopinder. Why wouldn’t whoever it is use burner phones though?” 

“They’ve only ever been given that number,” Cable said. “Not a burner.” 

“Wow. That’s so sloppy, it’s actually depressing. Guess we’re done here.” Wade wandered out of the building, texting Dopinder as he went. Outside, the people Silver had let out of the locked inner compound were still milling around. They flinched out of his way. Wade ignored them. 

Dopinder called him. “Mister Pool! Are you still in Libya?”

“I have no teleport belt in this continuity so sadly, yes. Why?” 

“That number you sent me. I have an address.” Dopinder read it out. Tripoli. Huh.

“Amazing. That’s fast. You are getting really good at this, minion. We might even reward you with an action scene.” 

“Thank you Mister Pool. But it wasn’t me. I was going through the hard disks that Miss Domino gave me and I filtered out the Libya data just in case. There were a few properties listed.” 

“The minor supporting characters actually helped the plot along? Will wonders never cease.” Wade blinked. 

“The Tripoli shipments are irregular, but there was one some time ago that takes place the same day that Miss Arlette and her team went missing,” Dopinder said. 

“Don’t suppose that the destination was listed in these magical hard disks?” Wade asked hopefully.

“No Mister Pool. The disks mostly contained CCTV data from the facility and backed up emails. One email from the facility administrator included a partial list of ‘feeder’ places. They use or control a lot of refugee places.”

“People who could disappear without the world really giving a shit,” Wade guessed. He was outside the compound now, Cable and Silver loosely on his heels. Someone started to scream back in the auction building as Wade hung up. “Mob justice?” he asked. 

Silver shrugged. “Told him we’d let him go. Didn’t say we’d guarantee his safety. You’ve got something?”

“Location in Tripoli.” 

“That’s fast.” Silver said, surprised. 

“I’m just that good,” Wade said, because he’d never felt bad about stealing credit. 

As they hiked back to their car, Cable said, “We’re just gonna leave all those people back there to their own devices?” 

“If you wanna do the white saviour thing and lead them to the promised land, go ahead. Nobody’s stopping you,” Wade told him. 

Cable scowled. “Jesus, Wade. They’ve been suffering for—”

“We already just went all Pax Americana on the place. Shock and awe and no follow-up humanitarian stuff. Kinda in character for Libya. It’ll work out.” Wade said vaguely. “Besides, there was a lot of cash and weapons in the back room that we didn’t touch. Maybe they’d be democratic and split it among themselves.” Or murder each other to get the lion’s share. Wade tended to have a practical opinion of humanity. 

Cable exhaled. He looked over his shoulder at the dim compound, then shook his head, blew out his cheeks, and kept walking. Wade glanced over at Silver. She didn’t even appear to have been listening. Desperation had pared her down to a single focused point. Until then, everything else was white noise. Wade understood how that felt. 

As Silver started up the car, Cable said, “This fucking timeline. I don’t even.” 

“A man who thought it was OK to murder a kid for something he hadn’t yet done is _probably_ not the best person to talk about humanity and morality and all that,” Wade told him. “I mean, you could try, but it’d sorta give everyone else a gross and hollow feeling. The kinda feeling you get after you eat a dozen Big Macs.” 

Silver stared at Cable through the rearview mirror. “You did what?” 

“Was between the kid and my family,” Cable said, glaring at Wade. 

Wade glowered back. “No it wasn’t, asshole. God. If it was, you’d have gone home to them right after. Or tried to turn Russell onto a better path instead of just trying to fucking shoot him. It was between a kid and your pain. You know how I know that? Because that’s how it was for me. Except I didn’t try to justify it to myself. And you know what else? Killing the guy who killed my wife didn’t fucking make me feel better about things. Or about myself. Life doesn’t work that way.” Wade looked out of the window at the dust. 

In the ringing silence, Silver cleared her throat. “Could I get a map to the new location?” she asked, in a subdued voice. 

“Right.” Cable projected the new location onto the dash. “Wade,” he said carefully. 

“Fuck off.” Wade closed his eyes. “I didn’t eat enough chimichangas for this. Gonna sleep. Wake me when we’re there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the Canadian military slang for special forces is ninjas. 
> 
> I know someone will inevitably ask this, but no, Deadpool is not referring to an actual Logan Omegaverse fic. Speaking of which, could people please stop referring to Omegaverse fic as A/B/O without the dashes… if you live in Australia you’d know that word is also a derogatory way of referring to Indigenous Aussies. Or better yet, just stick to ‘Omegaverse’. Thanks :) 
> 
> Refs:  
> https://edition.cnn.com/specials/africa/libya-slave-auctions


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter today. 
> 
> PSA: Melb peeps, OzComicCon is up in a week and Julian Dennison will be there! :D

Tripoli Harbour was beautiful in the morning. The burnished sea stretched away from the white harbour, bisected by fishing boats and freighters. White square buildings and elegant minarets were spaced between brilliantly green palm trees. “S’nice,” Wade said, as he scarfed down fried chicken from an amusingly familiar-looking white and red box. 

“Pity the country’s a mess,” Silver said. They had boxes of takeout balanced on the hood of the car. “Oil-rich. Used to have free healthcare and free education. Gorgeous cities. Now it’s split between rival blocs and it’s chaos. Not even really their fault. Maybe after the Paris meeting there’d actually be some kinda peaceful reconciliation. Wouldn’t hold my breath though.”

“I meant the chicken,” Wade said, mask pushed up to his nose as he reverently inhaled some greasy heavenly goodness. “It’s better than KFC. How even the hell? This ‘Uncle Kentaki’ stuff is giving me a religious experience.”

Silver made a disgusted noise. Leaning against the flank of the car, Cable huffed in amusement. The location that Dopinder had given them turned out to be a restricted section of Tripoli Harbour that had been locked up for the night. Not much security. The small office on the premises had been empty except for a phone. There’d been a couple of night watchmen, but according to Cable they didn’t know what the sector was for and didn’t care. Silver made the call to back off. They’d checked into a hotel for the rest of the night and gotten some rack time. And a fried chicken breakfast. 

“We _could_ have had sfinz,” Silver said. “Fried donut. With an egg. Can’t get that in New York, I think. While there’s fried chicken everywhere, Christ.” 

“Can’t hear you above the awesomeness of this chicken,” Wade said, picking up another piece. 

“Sleep okay?” Cable asked Silver. 

She shook her head. “Not since this happened.” They were parked in the shadow of a building away from the main port, within sight of the restricted section. So far there hadn’t been much activity. The night watchmen had changed shift to an equally bored set of day guards. Silver finished eating and wiped her hands down. “Could be this is a waste of time,” she said. “Another long shot.”

“Stakeouts always feel like that. It’s not so bad. You just take turns peeing,” Wade said.

Silver leaned back against the car with her elbows. “If it’s gonna take that long, I’m gonna take a walk and leave you two to it.” 

Near midday, just as Wade was feeling bored enough to maybe kidnap the day guards—no reason, just fun—a speedboat skirted fishing boats in the harbour and coasted towards the restricted sector. It docked and a middle-aged man got out, wearing a dress shirt and gray trousers. He waved at the guards, walked towards the small office and disappeared out of sight. 

“Came from that ship over there,” Cable said, taking the binoculars from Silver. “Called the Nosferatu.” 

“Can you get that looked up?” Silver asked Wade. 

Wade sent a text to Dopinder. When there was no answer, he called repeatedly until Dopinder picked up. “Mister Pool?” Dopinder asked. He sounded groggy. 

“Wakey wakey. Chop chop. Check the magic hard disks for a ship. The ’Nosferatu’.” 

“It’s five a.m., Mister Pool.” 

“So what? NPCs don’t need sleep. Call me back.” Wade hung up. “Maybe it’d be faster if we head in there and kidnap the new guy. Or check out that ship.” 

“Still don’t want to tip off Essex Corp if we can,” Silver said. 

“If that was the plan, _maybe_ we shouldn’t have gone all Call of Duty on the Sunset House.” Wade hated stealth missions. He got bored quickly and the need to pee often ratcheted up to uncomfortable proportions. 

“We didn’t leave any survivors. Other than the refugees, who’ve probably searched the place and left by now,” Silver said. “Think we’re good on that front.”

Wade’s phone buzzed him. It was Dopinder. “The ship wasn’t listed on the hard disks,” Dopinder said, “but I looked up its manifest from Tripoli Harbour’s databases. It’s a yacht. It’s been docked there for months. Before Tripoli it was in Monaco. It’s registered to ‘Arnold Bocklin’.” 

“Look up this Arnold guy and keep me posted, minion. Over and out.”

“Um, Mister Pool, about Russell.”

“What about Russell?”

“He wanted to ask—”

“Busy now bye!” Wade hung up. Kid stuff was boring. It could wait. “No luck,” he told Cable and Silver. “I say we storm the compound and kidnap the guy. If you want to cover our tracks afterwards, we could just set fire to the harbour.” 

Silver ran a hand over her face. “Subtle, real subtle.”

“Why thank you.”

“I mean, asshole, that no, I’m not in favour of gratuitous arson. This is partly a civilian port still,” Silver growled. “There’ll be casualties.”

“You two stay here,” Cable said, pushing away from the car. “I’ll go take a look and come back.”

“You mean in his mind? Pssh. Narrative cop out. We could’ve done that in the Sunset House,” Wade said. 

“Couldn’t have gotten close enough there without getting shot by sentries.” Cable jerked his thumb over at the sector. “Security’s light over here. Be right back.” He walked off before Wade could say anything. Yeah. As if Short GI Joe with a metal arm and a lightbulb eye was going to pass any stealth checks. If he got shot it’d serve him right.

“So,” Silver said, once Cable was out of sight, “what’s up with the both of you? You guys friends or what? Can’t get the gauge.”

“More like frenemies. I stopped him from killing Russell. You know, that kid you met in the Mansion.” 

“The fuck? Cable wanted to shoot that boy? Isn't Russell your ward? Why didn’t you put Cable down?” 

“Tried really hard and it didn’t take. Cable kinda got better. Think he’s working as a merc now too. Don’t really care. We’ve had drinks a few times. Whenever he happens to be at Sister Margaret’s.” Couple of times a week or so. Cable usually bought a round.

Silver blew out a sigh, her eyes hard. “Cable’s someone who’s morally capable of killing a _child_. How could you overlook that?”

“I didn’t! I shot him with his gun, my gun, a grenade, other guns, crashed a truck off a bridge with him in it, attacked him with my katanas, a crowbar, my balls, furniture… eh. He’s like a fucking zombie Energizer Bunny. Also, grief does weird things to some people. And he thought he was doing the world a favour. Apparently, Russell would’ve become some sort of mass murderer in the future. Think Cable’s over all that now.” Wade was pretty sure about that. 98% sure. 

“Ha.” Silver shook her head. “We’re all mass murderers. Bet we don’t even lose sleep about it. What’s your kill count by now, Wilson? I know you enjoy it. That’s part of your problem. It’s part of why you got kicked out the JTF2.” 

Wade smiled thinly at her. “So why didn’t you put _me_ down, Lieutenant?”

“You’re sociopathic, but you had some boundaries,” Silver said quietly. 

“Heh. That’s what you think. It’s all been dumbed down for a cinema release. The original me was Problematic with a capital R. What with kidnapping a blind black woman to become a prisoner-with-a-job sort of housekeeper and shit like that. Stuff that a certain sort of comics book writer thinks is edgy but is actually gross in an irredeemable way, like deep-fried butter.” 

Silver stared at him for a long time. “You weren’t like this when you were discharged,” she said finally. 

“Yeah. Well. Life happened.” The bitterness edged out past the cracks, badly papered over with humour. 

“Whatever it was, I’m sorry,” Silver said, with a measured gentleness that hurt to hear, somehow. She patted his elbow. Wade sucked in a slow breath that wavered between his teeth. He pulled down his mask, looking away. 

“Thanks.” 

“You could use fewer sociopathic friends. They’re probably making you worse.” Silver smiled faintly. “Maybe you should move back to Canada.”

“Ugh, no. I love the motherland but my heart belongs to the land of chimichangas.” 

“Suppose you always land on your feet,” Silver said reflectively. “What even the hell, Wilson. I didn’t think you’d be able to find one person who’d be willing to stand your motormouth long enough to want to fuck you, let alone two.” 

Wade stared at Silver. “Who what now? I’m helping you find your not!daughter, but you’re not really my type.”

“Not _me_ , jackass. I mean the sociopathic guy with the metal arm. Come to think of it though, you’re sociopathic, so’s he. Good match.” 

“ _Cable_?” Wade said, incredulous. 

“You seriously think he’s hitting on you as a joke? Does that guy look like he jokes? Just tell him to back off if you don’t like it.” 

“It’s totally a joke. You’ve seen my face.”

Silver raised her eyebrows. “And?”

“And what? All those ‘handsome’ comments are obviously him taking the piss? Cable just has a stunted sense of humour.” 

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?” 

“Ask him whether he’s joking or flirting. In private, not in my face. Why, you too chicken?” Silver smirked. 

Wade scowled at her. “Fine. I’ll ask.” COs always thought they knew everything. Besides. Cable was hot, in an anger-issues silver fox way, especially with that _arm_ , that made-of-stone jaw. In Wade’s varied and long experience, hot people didn’t generally go for people who looked like sentient avocado roadkill. Ness had just been emotionally compromised beforehand.

As he was mulling it over, Cable rounded the corner behind a building and loped back up towards them. He looked relaxed, as though he’d just gone for a stroll. 

“Tell me you got something,” Wade said, “because I kinda need to pee within the next five to ten minutes.” 

“Chrissakes, Wilson,” Silver muttered. 

Cable grunted. “Man in the office isn’t called Arnold Bocklin. He doesn’t even know who that is. He’s paid to shuttle his time between the phone at the harbour and the phone on the yacht. He takes incoming calls. It’s a one-way deal. He lives on the ship. He’s just local admin. Handles ‘courier’ coordination and basic logistics for Essex Corp ships that dock at the harbour. Last ship in was called The Milbury. He doesn’t know where it went and doesn’t care.” 

Another dead end? Silver’s face fell. “Shit.” 

Wade sent Dopinder a text to look up the Milbury. “We could check out the yacht,” Wade said unenthusiastically. “I guess—” His phone buzzed him. “Yes, favourite minion?”

“Mister Pool! That ship, the Milbury sir, it’s _here_. In New York. South Brooklyn Marine Terminal.” 

“Flying fuckmonkeys, that’s… kinda annoyingly convenient and inconvenient at the same time. Great. Well done you. Super fast. Gold star.”

“I googled it and it came up on findship.co sir!” 

“Don’t tell me how the sausage is made, it’ll reduce your Favourite Minion credit,” Wade said. He looked at Silver. “Ship’s in New York.” 

“Return trip it is,” Silver said tiredly. 

“Dopinder, courier for three back to New York, asap.” 

“Booking it in, Mister Pool. Um, about Russell.”

“He dead?”

“No?”

“Injured?”

“No?”

“Pregnant?”

“Um? No?” Dopinder sounded panicky. “What?” 

“Seriously busy now, bye.” Wade hung up. “Back to the airfield!” 

“This time, we’re not packing 16 hours’ worth of chimichangas,” Silver said, staring Wade down.

“What about fried chicken?”

“No.”

#

“I haven’t been able to reach Wade and Dopinder says he’s busy, so I bet it’s all cool,” Russell said, as they gathered in the back room office in Sister Margaret’s. “I’m sure Wade would ‘preciate us helping him save people. It’s the superhero thing to do, right?”

Behind the desk, Dopinder had a hunted expression. “Maybe we should wait for Mister Pool to come back before rushing to conclusions?” 

“Nahh. What for? The ship might be gone by then. The Milbury is in Brooklyn right now, yeah? Let’s just go check it out. This is way more fun than school,” Russell said, with a quick glance at the couch in the office. Miles and Juan smiled wanly at him from it. 

“So… why are those two here?” Domino asked. She’d wandered into the bar on a hunch during the morning, right into the kids and Dopinder in the back room having an argument. “Didn’t I see all of you off at the Mansion?” 

“Well uh, the Professor said, sure Miles could stay, but the school is for mutants so, Juan can’t, though he offered to help Juan find a relative or a sponsor or something, then Miles said if Juan can’t stay he won’t either, so I thought, maybe they could stay here until Wade comes back to deal with it.” Russell beamed. 

“Not the best idea,” Domino said carefully. Wade and kids without any mitigating factors was probably a recipe for permanent emotional trauma on all sides.

“Why? Wade likes kids. Don’t mean that in a weird way or nothing. Why else would he try so hard to save me? It’ll be _fine_ ,” Russell said confidently. “In the meantime, we’ll just help out.” 

“All right,” Domino said. She wasn’t up to anything else today anyway. “What about your other friends?”

“Decided not to skip class. Meh. _Class_. When there’s superheroing to do? I don’t think Superman had to go to class.” Russell paused. “Maybe only when he was a kid.” 

“O-kay.” Domino pushed away from the wall. As Miles started to get up, she shook her head. “No, you two stay here. Help Dopinder out and lie low. If we take you along you might just get caught by ICE all over again.”

“I’m not very good with kids,” Dopinder said faintly. “What do I do?” 

“Just feed them and make sure they don’t die,” Domino said cheerfully. “C’mon, Russell. Brooklyn and the Milbury, yeah?” 

“I think your superpower is the most awesome,” Russell said, as they headed out of the bar. “More awesome than Wade’s. More awesome than Cable’s. I don’t even see how it’s logically possible and it’s awesome.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” Domino said. She’d seen Russell melt security doors and smash holes through concrete back in Texas. 

“Aww shucks. Thanks. I can set things on fire, sure. But being super lucky? That’s like the only superpower that gives you immunity from late-stage capitalism.” 

Domino chuckled and shook her head. “You’ve been ‘round Wilson way too long, Russell.” 

“I’m starting to think ‘Russell’ is too yuppie. Maybe I should call myself Russ. No, that’s like a pet’s name. ‘Rusty’?” Russell muttered to himself as Domino called an Uber.

The South Brooklyn Marine Terminal was a massive sprawl of aging infrastructure, once used as a container terminal into the 80s and now largely unused. Colourful container blocks were stacked over the section of it that had been recently upgraded, with crane lifts and windmills looming beyond. Acres of it were still awaiting reactivation, baking quietly in the late morning sun. 

“Dopinder says the Milbury’s owned by Silvestri Inc, a Panaman shell company. They lease a small part of the Terminal. Including a shed. They’re a logistics company on paper,” Russell said, reading off the texts on his phone. “Transporting pharmaceutical supplies.” 

“Silvestri Inc, huh.” Domino looked around. There wasn’t much security in this unused part of the Terminal, which meant they’d snuck through from the road without even seeing a soul. As she started to pick a random direction, a van with a familiar-looking black logo trundled past in the distance closer to the wharves. Essex Corp.

“Damn I love your powers,” Russell said admiringly.

Following the direction the van had gone to brought them to a tidy row of warehouse sheds, parked vans, and forklift trucks. The Terminal was too shallow for container ships, and the sole ship berthed close by was probably as big as the harbour could take. It was a tiered ship with a blue hull, on which ‘The Milbury’ was printed in large letters. 

“Bingo,” Russell whispered. They skulked over to the parked vans. Crates were being loaded into the belly of the ship from a ramp. Just as Domino was trying to figure out how to get onto the ship unseen, Russell gripped her wrist tightly. Walking out of the shed, flanked by a mountainous bodyguard, was the Pale Man. 

Domino flattened herself down against the van, her next breath hitching against her clenched teeth. _Him_. He hadn't even aged much, as far as Domino could tell. Tall and dark-haired, the Pale Man had been given his name by the orphanage kids for the unnatural pallor of his skin and his clinical stillness. The reaper, waiting. He was dressed in a long black coat buttoned over a white shirt. She remembered those coats. For a moment Domino could feel his cold fingers holding her chin like a vise again, see his intense dark eyes up close. _You’re a fascinating little girl, Neena. We’re going to do great things together._

“That’s the Pale Man,” Russell whispered. “I think he owns the Home. He comes by once a year. Used to be really interested in the kids with ‘non-standard abilities’. Sometimes he takes people away personally when they’re older…” He trailed off. “You okay, Miz Domino?” 

“Yeah.” Domino blew out a soft breath. “Yeah. I’m okay.” She was sweating into her clothes, cold sweat. She hadn’t felt fear like this for a long time. It made her a frightened child again, hiding under her bolted-down bed, trying not to cry.

“I’m going to call for backup.” Russell started furiously texting on his phone. 

“Yup. You do that. Stay here.” Domino wiped her clammy hands down her thighs and drew her guns from their holsters. 

“Whoah, whoah, whoah. We should wait for the X-Men. Ellie and Yukio will get a break from morning classes soon. They could get the other kids and the plane together.” 

Domino peeked around the van. Revenge was so close. For all the years of pain, for all the others who didn’t make it out. She clenched her teeth so hard that her jaw ached. The Pale Man was talking to a supervisor in a hard hat and a neon vest as they walked towards the ship. 

“We’re ready to set sail,” the supervisor said. “Will you be on the ship, sir?”

“Sadly, I’m due at Alkali Lake,” the Pale Man said. “There’s a little something being held there in my honour. For my birthday.”

“Oh sir! Happy birthday, sir.”

“Thank you. I told Warden Stryker, there’s no need to make such a fuss, but he was insistent.” 

Domino looked back at Russell, who was still texting. “Hey. Stay here, okay? I’m going in. Whatever happens, don’t intervene.” 

“What? No! I’m not going to just sit here,” Russell hissed. 

“Isn’t killing people against your school’s rules?” And hadn’t Wade babbled something about how Russell Definitely Never Should Ever Kill a Person? Domino couldn’t quite remember the logic behind that right now.

“Yeah. But. This is the _Pale Man_. Besides. You kill people. So does Wade. And Cable, even.” 

Domino rubbed a hand over her temple. “Okay, whatever. You want to help? Follow my lead and don’t get too close.”

Russell clenched his fists. “I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refs  
> http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-44289516  
> https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/worldviews/wp/2013/05/13/revolutionary-fast-food-anthony-bourdain-samples-libyas-uncle-kentaki-chicken/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.4a26dad6e8f5  
> https://www.amny.com/news/sustainable-south-brooklyn-marine-terminal-1.18456104


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning** : This chapter changes the rating of this fic to E.

Silver smirked at Wade during takeoff as he sat opposite Cable on the aisle. Wade flipped her off, which made her laugh as she turned away. Once they were up and on their way, Silver curled up and went to sleep. 

“Two of you seem to be getting along,” Cable said, neutral. 

“Like you said, she’s the boss.” 

“Big part of your past?” Cable asked. 

“Of some of the less horrible bits, I guess.” Boot camp had been ugly and the regular Army had been meh. Wade’s time in the JTF2 had been Army-like in many ways: long periods of meh followed by short showers of shit, but the wtfkery had been entertaining. The Special Forces had been his family for ten years, with Silver as the den mother for a large part of it. 

“Ever wish you could go back? Give it a do-over?” 

“Stay in the Special Forces?” Wade thought about it. “Nah, not really. It was pretty boring overall. And didn’t actually pay that well. What about you? What’s the army like in the future?” 

“Lot less structured. What Silver said about Libya, warring factions and chaos… it was something like that but on a global scale. Militias banded together. There were small and big ones.” 

“And also people like you, who went at it alone,” Wade guessed. 

“Kinda.” Cable rubbed at his jaw, looking out of the window. “It’s… kinda complicated. Thing is. I’m actually from the near future. My parents—my father anyway—is alive right now. This is what I was told. I was infected by this shit—” Cable tapped at his metal arm, “—at birth. My parents sent me into the future in the hopes that there’d be a cure.”

“…I forget that we were in a Marvel story for half a chapter and a Marvel-esque plot development slaps me in the face,” Wade said, blinking. “That’s unnecessarily complicated.” 

Cable huffed. “Yeah. Could say that. Hell, that’s not even half of it.” 

“It gets _more_ complicated? Do tell.” 

“Ehh. My biological mom’s a clone of my dad’s wife and my sort-of mother figure in the future turned out to be my half-sister. Who founded a militant cult that thought I was some kinda chosen one.” 

Wade was silent for a long time. “You’re shitting me.” 

“‘Fraid not.” Cable cracked a sharp smile. 

“Suddenly the fact that you’re so incredibly fucked up makes a lot of sense,” Wade said slowly. “Holy mother of awful plotlines. Which editor okayed _that_ story? So if you’re from the near future, what happens if your dad and clone-of-your-mom, what the fuck even, have Baby You… soon? In a few years? Decades? And you’re still here? Isn’t that a time travel paradox? Does a hole get ripped in reality and Half Life 2 happens?” 

“Don’t know. And don’t sound so hopeful.” 

“Ugggh, just thinking about it gave me a migraine. Sometimes I wonder. Am I really mentally unstable, or am I actually the sanest, most self-aware character in the continuity shitstorm?” Wade grumbled. 

Cable chuckled. It was an odd, warm sound that reminded Wade weirdly of Ness. Whenever Wade made her laugh, she’d make a laugh like that. “Life’s often way stranger than fiction,” Cable said. He frowned as he noticed Wade staring at him. “What?” 

“Firstly, you don’t get to say that. Nobody gets to say anything at all to forgive the weird shit that Marvel writers put their fans through. But at least they’re now diversifying their bench. Secondly.” Wade glanced over at Silver. Sound asleep. “That reminds me. Silver over there’s watched one too many c-dramas. She thought you were flirting with me all this while.” 

Cable stared at him. “And you thought I was just fucking with you.” 

“… Yes?” 

Cable let out a deep sigh. “I don’t spend that kinda time fucking _with_ people. Never saw the point.” 

“But I’m a special snowflake?” Hah, so Wade was right. Fuck COs. 

“Jesus. How obvious do I have to get?” Cable leaned his elbow on the armrest and held up a finger. “One. Yes. I am. Flirting with you. Though now that I’m actually having to say this out loud I don’t know why I fucking bothered. Two, and in case you didn’t understand me the first time, yes, Silver was right.” 

Wade gawked at him from other the aisle. “I don’t get it.”

“ _Christ_. Nevermind.” Cable rubbed a hand slowly over his face. 

“I mean. You’ve seen me without my mask.” 

“I’m a goddamned _telepath_ , Wade. When I look at someone the meatbag they’re wearing is the least of what I notice about them, all right? No matter how much I wall myself off. I can hear surface stuff. D’you tend to remember book covers or the book?” 

“… Aaaand somehow you’ve managed to make this creepy. Wait, they still have books in the future? And people say print is dead.” 

Cable started to snap something, and sobered instead. “Hey. If this is pissing you off or something, I’ll stop.” 

“I don’t even remember you being that friendly.” 

“How many drinks have I bought you by now?”

“That’s… okay, uh. But when I showed up at your door with Silver in tow, you didn’t even want to let us in!” 

“‘Cos I could sense that she was in a lot of pain and I wasn’t sure what you had to do with it,” Cable shot back. 

“So. Telepaths find my scrambled brain hot?” Wade asked, fascinated. “Why hasn’t Professor Egg or Sansa ever said anything?”

“Don’t know about them,” Cable said. He met Wade’s stare evenly. “But yeah. I do. Don’t know how you live like that but I do. Don’t even know how to describe it. Even being near you is sorta like getting a secondhand sugar rush. All the time.” 

“Wow,” Wade said, still mystified. “Guess it takes all kinds.” 

“You.” Cable concentrated. “You don’t actually believe me.”

“Still looking for the punchline. Knowing you, it’s probably trite.” 

Cable got to his feet, crossed the aisle, and pulled Wade to his with an easy flex of his metal arm. Okay. That was hot. Cable eyed him for a moment, glanced at Silver’s sleeping form, and dragged Wade down to the back of the plane. They didn’t fit well into the tiny bathroom. Cable was too solid for that, short as he was in this continuity. He backed Wade against the sink and locked the door behind them. 

“ _I_ don’t get it,” Cable said. 

Wade’s mildly derailed brain rallied, offering up at least five ways to use the soap dispenser behind him for maximum violence, but what came out of his mouth was, “Uh. Starting to think I need to update my privacy policy.”

“You’re a highly skilled warrior. Even without your powers. My abilities are limited thanks to the virus, but I think even if I had them all I would’ve had a problem taking you down. You’re obviously intensely loyal. You’re funny. And yeah. You don’t have any filter for the world. Not even to make it kinder on yourself. I like all that.” Cable paused to study Wade carefully. “Want me to keep going? Or d’you still think I’m fucking with you?”

By sheer effort, Wade swallowed the first three quips that tried to make it off his tongue. “This isn’t a rebound thing, is it?”

“What?”

“You said I remind you of your wife.”

Cable narrowed his eyes. “You want me to back off, I will.” 

“Not what I said.”

“No, it’s not a ‘rebound thing’.” Cable said. He bracketed Wade in, telegraphing the move by pressing his hands on the sink then edging them closer to Wade’s hips when Wade didn’t move. “But yeah, maybe I have a type. People who’d take whatever the world dishes out and refuse to break. You guys just laugh and bounce back up with jokes and a ‘fuck you’ and call it a day. I don’t know how you do it. Wish I did.” 

Wade took his mask off. He was watching Cable closely as he did it. When Cable didn’t even tense, Wade pressed a gloved thumb against the segmented metal sinews on the underside of Cable’s arm. Cable shivered as Wade stroked his thumb up to his elbow. “Warmer than I thought it’d be,” Wade said. He could feel the heat through his gloves.

“It’s a parasite. Part of me.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Got used to it.” 

“A virus-parasite that converts flesh into Terminator tech does _not_ make any scientific sense whatsoever.” Wade sucked in a slow breath. “I guess. Maybe other things that don’t make any sense can be true.” 

Cable chuckled. “This seriously ain’t much of a stretch.” He leaned in. Waited when he was close enough that they were breathing each other’s air, until Wade made a strangled sound and closed in. The kiss was weirdly tentative. Not even any tongue. Then Cable growled and hiked Wade up onto the sink and shoved up against him, pinning him to the mirror and licking into his mouth. 

Wade clenched his hands into Cable’s shirt and tried to stifle his groans, the desperate edge bleeding against disbelief and lust. He wriggled to get comfortable and the hilt of one of his katanas bashed against the rack of spare toiletries and hand towels, squirting them both with hand sanitizer. Cable yelped, jerking back and nearly hauling Wade off the sink after him. “The fuck?” 

“Oops,” Wade said, and started to laugh. Cable glared at him for a moment then looked to the side and his snort turned into a noiseless chuckle as he leaned back in, nuzzling his mouth over Wade’s throat. “The mile high club kink looks so much easier to execute in porn,” Wade said, still snickering. “So misleading.”

“What’s with the swords anyway? It’s the goddamned 21st century.” Cable was nuzzling up Wade’s pulse, tentative again. Breathing him in, even though Wade hadn’t showered for at least a couple of days and probably smelled of chimichangas and fried chicken and worse. Maybe the hand sanitizer helped.

“Katanas are cool. We also had a random Hong Kong fight scene and a Tokyo swordfight onsen scene in the last film. And my BFF is the Japanese girl character. In this house, we fetishize cherrypicked East Asian aesthetics.” Wade kissed Cable as he started to shake his head, tickling gloved fingertips up the thick metal cords sunk against Cable’s throat. Tracing the infection. 

Cable hummed deep and low against Wade’s touch, hands curling down to squeeze Wade’s ass appreciatively. This was… nice. So weird, but nice. Did Cable know Wade was like this _all_ over though? Narrative convenience somehow conspired to keep Wade permanently disfigured even in this continuity even though his disfigurement wasn’t from cancer and he clearly could regrow limbs that were smooth all over in the development stage—

“Hey,” Cable rumbled, pulling back. “Relax.” 

“I’m relaxed. Who’s not relaxed?” Wade squirmed. 

Cable stared at him. “Scars are the mark of a survivor,” he said, and the gentleness in his tone pissed Wade off.

“The fuck do you know? Yours actually look cool. Mine—”

“Why do you care so much?” 

“You seen people run away from me on the street? I’ve made _kids_ cry.” 

“So?” Cable brushed a kiss on his mouth. “Fuck them. Fuck them all. You think people don’t run away from my arm? Treat me like I’m about to get taken over by the parasite at any moment? I’ve heard every fucking robot, Terminator, cyborg, and appliance joke known to fucking man. And I don’t. Give. A _fuck_.” This time his kiss bruised Wade as he gave it, his groan scraped harshly between them. 

Wade fumbled off his scabbards, the blades clattering awkwardly against the sink and the mirror. Cable snarled something, curling his fingers into the holster straps on Wade’s thighs and using them to haul him flush and hell, that definitely wasn’t Cable packing a pistol down there. Wade ground tentatively against the bulge and Cable compressed a growl against him, shoving a palm up against Wade’s crotch and squeezing. 

“Want me to slow down, now’s the time to say something,” Cable said huskily. 

“I think we shouldn’t disappoint the people who skimmed this whole story to get to the smut,” Wade said breathlessly. Nevermind that Wade had personally thought that anything R18+ would be genre-conformingly heterosexual. “Or we could fade to black! Yeah, that’ll piss them off.” 

Cable chuckled, somehow managing to wedge himself down on his knees between the sink and the toilet. He hauled Wade to the edge and looked up, his dud eye banking a dim glow against Wade’s inner thigh. “Well? You gonna help me out here or what?” 

“Only because you asked,” Wade said, with playful magnanimity. He unzipped himself and drew out his cock and this was a new level of surrealism even for his life, with Cable, goddamned _Cable_ on his knees with his unreal eye and his arm, thousands of feet in the air with the plane humming around them. 

Cable shoved Wade’s thighs over his shoulders and swallowed hardening flesh to the root, all at once, and it figured that Cable treated sex the way he treated life, with an uncompromising and single-minded brutality of purpose. Wade let out a high pitched whine and scrabbled for a grip, over Cable’s side-shave, his silvery hair, his shirt. Cable dug his fingers against the catches of Wade’s holsters and used that as leverage, pulling Wade into a rolling rhythm. Wade couldn’t fight that even if he wanted to. Couldn’t look away even if he tried. His cock swelled quickly to stretch Cable’s reddening mouth, pushing deeper with each thrust. 

Down Cable’s throat, shoving in with a bruising sort of inexorability, as though intimacy was also something to be conquered. Cable’s breath was hot against Wade’s skin, his suction sloppy and wet. His eyes were closed but Wade knew Cable wasn’t thinking of anyone else, wasn’t distant, not with their lust so loud between them both, pleasure fragmenting the scattered cadence of Wade’s thoughts into stutters. Cable purred, deep and low and satisfied. He could probably feel that. Read the pulses. Cable choked down what he could get and fought for more, his throat clenched tight over the intrusion. His infected arm whirred as he rubbed a palm restlessly up Wade’s inner thigh, stroking a thumb up over Wade’s tightening balls and Wade was scratching at Cable’s shoulders, crying out. 

Cable swallowed. He sat back and wiped his mouth down, licked up the rest. Wade somehow managed the dizzy presence of mind to slide down and into Cable’s lap, hauling him close, kissing him as he fumbled at Cable’s zipper. Wade spat on his gloved hand and grinned wolfishly as Cable’s eyes widened. He kept grinning as Cable cursed, shoving up into Wade’s palm as he closed the leather over Cable’s cock and jacked him roughly. 

“ _Wade_ ,” Cable gasped, “mother _fucking_ Christ.” He thumped a fist against the wall as he bucked. Something pushed Wade forward into a messy kiss, broken along their gasps until Cable shoved up a couple of times and went still. 

Wade started to laugh again, his mouth pressed close to Cable’s throat. “Thanks for helping me tick the Mile High Club off my bucket list.” 

Cable leaned back gingerly, his skull resting against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. “Fuck you.” His mouth quirked up at the edges, though. “Clean up’s going to be a bitch.” 

“Clean up what?” 

“Smells like sex in here and we’re not the only people on the plane, jackass.” 

“You started it, I vote you deal with it,” Wade said. He got shakily to his feet and washed his glove off in the sink, zipping up and buckling his katanas back on. Cable wiped himself down, flushing the tissues and setting his clothes to rights. He kissed Wade again against the sink after he washed his hands. Then Cable let Wade out of the bathroom and looked around for supplies. 

Silver was awake—her expression was frozen somewhere in the weird tundra between smugness and exasperation. “Fuck’s sake, Wilson,” she said, as Wade sat back down. “Couldn’t you keep it down? You guys woke me up.”

“On the bright side, you were right?”

“Wish I wasn’t. I bet even the pilot could hear the two of you.” Silver glanced over as Cable returned to his seat, and he met her amused look with a carefully blank stare. “I don’t get a thank you?” she told him. 

“Thanks,” Cable said dryly. Silver chuckled, twisting around to close her eyes. 

Wade waited until Silver’s breaths evened back out to sleep. “Now what?” he asked Cable.

Cable glanced over. He’d been reading through one of the complimentary newspapers on the plane. “What do you mean?”

“Why’d you even ask questions like that?” Wade asked, curious. “If you can see what I mean?” 

“I only ‘hear’ loud surface thoughts. The rest I have to concentrate and ‘read’. Can’t do that in your case. People with healing factors can’t be read. Something about the constant cellular regeneration.” Cable folded down the newspaper. “You asking about the mission or about us?”

“The mission hasn’t changed. I meant us.” 

Cable scratched at his jaw. “I know I’m a… difficult person to be friends with. Let alone anything else. That time, you were right. I've been thinking about what you've said. I didn’t have to shoot Russell. A better man would’ve tried something—anything—else. I’m glad you were there to show me that.” 

“Okay. Good. Recognising your problems is the first step of the healing process, according to Women’s Weekly.” Wade liked women’s magazines, even though none of them had yet done a chimichanga photoshoot. 

“So it’s up to you. Sort it out in your head. You want more, great. I want that too. You get second thoughts at any time and want me to back off? That’s fine.” 

“After we save the day,” Wade said, “I guess we should. Sit down and Talk.” According to Cosmopolitan. Which had almost never maybe let Wade down, even if all its ‘Perfect Skin, Glowing Hair’ advice columns tended to be depressing to read. 

“Gonna hold you to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That short description of Cable’s backstory is not even all of the weirdest shit. Marvel, why. Mother Askani/Rachel Summers also somehow pulls/clones the minds of Scott and Jean into the future to be Cable’s “parents” there. And a lot of other shit happens. I hope the film doesn’t go there tbh.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite the Warden’s words, the days dragged on with nothing much happening other than the usual. Shitty food. Talking to Narya. Trying to stay fit inside the confines of her cell. Armed guards taking blood samples. Over the months Arlette had noticed a pattern. Everyone on this floor of wherever they were was most likely a mutant, and they were all adult mutants. 

It was possible that there were other floors, Gods, Arlette hoped so—when she’d tried to escape, on her way out in passing she hadn’t found any of the rest of her team. She wouldn’t have made it far if she had—even with Narya yelling at her to _go, just fucking go_ it had killed Arlette to try and make a break for it alone. Seeing Narya’s disappointment when she’d been caught and thrown back into her cell had been worse. 

Some mutants got frogmarched out and back regularly, ringed by guards. Without peeking through the food slot Arlette couldn’t tell who, or why. Wasn’t her or Narya, though. Maybe this ‘research’ facility was more interested in powers that weren’t teleportation or animal shapeshifting. Newcomers also came and went. There was one today, judging from the heavy clanging of a cell door further down the corridor. Arlette lay low and talked to Narya through the slot whenever the guards cycled into breaks. They tried not to talk about home in the beginning, but that hadn’t lasted long. 

“…my favourite kind of biscuit? What kind of biscuit?” Narya asked. 

“Any kind,” Arlette said. 

Narya laughed. “I feel like I should be talking up Nanaimo bars or maple shortbread cookies or something. Sorry to disappoint. I grew up in Pangnirtung.”

“In Nunavut, right?” Arlette vaguely remembered Narya joking with the Captain over it once. 

“Yeah. Food gets really expensive up north. Especially in Nunavut. You could pay something like twenty bucks for a small block of cheddar. Over twenty bucks for a bag of grapes. Family didn’t buy things like cookies growing up. We couldn’t afford it. Even if we could find them on the shelves.” 

“Oh. I didn’t realize,” Arlette said, abashed. 

“Eh, we made do. Been making do for thousands of years.” Narya shrugged, the movement slightly visible through the slot. “I tried that edible cookie dough thing the Captain brought to training though. That was weird.”

“I know, right? I talked to my Auntie about it, she said I’d better not eat it in case I get salmonella poisoning, and I told her, it’s _edible_ cookie dough, but I don’t think she believed me.” 

Narya softened a little. “Heard your aunt was in the JTF2.” 

“Yeah. She retired after a while. Not sure why, she never wanted to say.” 

“So what are your favourite cookies?” 

“Hers, actually. She makes these really awesome buttery cashew ones.” Arlette blushed. “I know. I sound like a kid, always gushing about her aunt—”

“Psst!” That was a boy’s voice, from further down the corridor. “Hey. Are you guys Canadians?” 

Narya frowned and shook her head, but Arlette said, “Yes?” before she could help it.

“Aww _yiss_. I’m looking for a Canadian person. Sorry if that came out rude, eh. Or like I’m just assuming all Canadians know each other or something. Her name’s Arlette? Arlette Tang? She’s like, Canadian Special Forces.”

What? Narya was mouthing for Arlette to shut up. Arlette let out a shaky breath. “Who’s asking?” 

“I’m Russell. Or Rusty. Err, I guess. Russell is better.” Russell muttered something to himself. “I’m. With the X-Men? Though this isn’t actually an X-Men thing. Err. Her aunt’s looking for her. Came to the Mansion and all. Think she’s called ‘Silver’. The aunt, that is.” 

Arlette squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her hands over her chest. For a moment hope burned so hotly inside her that her eyes hurt, that she let out a soft breath of jubilation. Then reality returned, and with it, horror. “Where’s Silver? Is she here too?” Arlette would not be able to bear that. 

“No? Um. Not that I know of? She went to Libya but was coming back.” 

Libya? Why… _oh_. The Sunset House. Silver was retracing Alpha Flight’s path. Coming for Arlette, the way she had promised her years ago when Arlette had first signed on with the Navy. _If you ever get into serious trouble I’ll be right behind you, baobei._

“I’m Arlette,” Arlette said, ignoring Narya. 

“Wow! Okay. Awesome.” Russell sounded so relieved that Arlette had to smile. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. So the X-Men are coming?” Arlette lowered her voice.

“Err. About that. Maybe? Maybe not? I mean, I told Domino to wait for backup but she didn’t want to, so we tried to take on the Pale Man and his thugs. Don’t think we even killed anyone. The Pale Man’s way stronger than he looks. I thought he wasn’t a mutant.” 

“He’s not, I think,” Narya said, chiming in reluctantly. “Mutants usually only have one secondary mutation. He has far too many. TK, healing factors, flight, superhuman strength… I think he’s using tech. Assimilated somehow from facilities like this. I’m Narya.”

“Oh, cool. Are you Special Forces too?” Russell sounded excited and all too much like a child. Arlette’s heart sank. How young was he? The X-Men was a school for mutant kids or something, wasn’t it? 

“Yes?” Narya said.

“My guardian was in the Special Forces. Silver was his boss. He said you guys wrestle bears to defend maple syrup reserves.” 

Arlette stifled a laugh even as Narya blinked and said, “Not particularly.”

“Damn it. I knew he was shitting me,” Russell grumbled. “He’s such an asshole sometimes.”

“What’s your guardian’s name?” Arlette asked. “You don’t sound Canadian.” 

“Wade. Wade Wilson. And yeah, I’m not. I’m from New Zealand. It’s a long story.” 

Silver had never mentioned anyone of that name before, but Arlette knew that her aunt had kept in contact with some people from the JTF2. From the Navy, even. To find Arlette, Silver must have hit up every favour she could get. Until she’d finally unearthed someone who had a ward in the X-Men. Just as Arlette was going to ask for more details about Silver’s visit to the mansion, Narya stilled and loudly closed the food slot. 

Reluctantly, Arlette followed suit and hoped that Russell would get the hint. She heard a faint clink of a slot closing further down the corridor. Smart boy. Footsteps. The rod, slapping against doors. Stopping outside hers. 

“You there, China doll?” The Warden chuckled harshly, slapping the rod again against her door. “Event’s tonight. So put your big girl pants on. I expect a real show.”

#

It was an hour to midnight by the time Wade and the others hauled ass to Sister Margaret’s. The bar was busy, but when Dopinder caught sight of Wade barrelling through the door he said something to a pair of kids near the counter. They took his place nervously as Dopinder gestured for Wade to follow him into the back room office.

Wade stared at the kids as he went past. Skinny boys, one taller than the other. The shorter one had short-buzzed hair thick eyebrows, and he met Wade’s stare curiously, unafraid. “Is that even legal?” Wade asked as Dopinder turned the lights on in the office. “Having minors man a bar?”

“Err. Maybe? I don’t know? Russell said you would deal with it?” Dopinder said nervously.

“Deal with what now?” Wade blinked. 

“Russell and Domino saved um, Miles and Juan from ICE. Miles is a mutant, Juan isn’t, so the Mansion didn’t want to let Juan stay so Miles didn’t want to stay either and they had nowhere to go so Domino said they could stay here.” Dopinder took in a deep breath. “Russell said you’d sort it out.”

“It figures that the endpoint of a dated metaphor for racism is a segregated school,” Wade muttered. He rubbed a hand over his temple. “Nevermind. Deal with that later. Let’s start from something else. Like why the _fuck_ was Russell going around with Domino on a mission, how the fuck did he get bagged, and where the fuck is he now?” Seriously. Wade leaves the country for four chapters and everything goes to hell. 

“He tried to reach you to ask for permission but you were busy,” Dopinder said, and hid quickly behind his desk. 

“The hell? Shouldn’t he just know that the answer is ‘no’?” God, kids were depressing. Wade slouched tiredly into a chair. 

“As far as we can tell from texts he sent his um, classmates, and some CCTV footage I got from the site, Russell and Domino tried to confront someone they called the ‘Pale Man’ and. Didn’t win.” 

“Russell got into a fight? Did he…” Wade trailed off, belatedly realizing who was behind him. Shit. “This footage. Any chance of an ixnay on the kill-ay?” 

Dopinder stared at Wade, bewildered. He yelped and flinched back as Cable strode up to the desk. “Show us the footage,” Cable said flatly. 

Wade stiffened. “Hey. Remember all the character development you’ve maybe done so far over six chapters.”

Cable eyed him evenly. “I know, Wade.” 

“‘Cos if you’re going to go all ‘RRR, Me Terminator!’ again I’m going to be seriously disappointed.” 

“The footage,” Silver said impatiently, shouldering past Cable. Dopinder brought it up on a laptop. The image quality was grainy and lacked sound. Domino and Russell were attacking a big-sized guy and a skinny pale guy in a coat. The big guy was blasted off the harbour by Russell as Domino charged the pale guy, shooting from the hip. The bullets arced away, stitching into the dust. Then the fight was over. Domino and Russell were struggling in the air against invisible bonds. After a moment, the big guy climbed out, burned but alive. 

Shit. Wade let out a breath. Cable was staring at the screen, frowning, his hands twitching at his sides. “There. Look. The big asshole only got grilled to medium rare. Russell didn’t kill anyone, all right? Chill out,” Wade said, annoyed. 

“I wasn’t concerned about him.” 

“Yeah, almost believed you there,” Wade said, pointedly fingering his holstered pistol. 

“Russell told his classmates that the Pale Man was talking about a place called Alkali Lake. That he was meant to be going there for his birthday,” Dopinder said hastily, perhaps concerned that WWIII was about to break out.

“Alkali Lake, Oregon? Or British Columbia?” Wade groaned. Fuck this weird tendency for colonized lands to have the same names for everything. 

“Alberta,” Cable said quietly. “Canada.” 

Wade shot him an incredulous look. “How did you know that?” Silver asked. 

“It’s…” Cable trailed off. “In the future, it’s a military base. An old one. Home of the Weapon X program.” 

“Professor Egg gets militarised?” That wouldn’t surprise Wade, really, what with his sortof child-almost-soldiers-in-spandex ‘school’ program.

“No. Doesn’t have anything to do with Xavier at all.” 

“Well that’s confusing. The Professor should sue.” Wade stared hard at the CCTV. Collars were being put on both Domino and Russell, and they were packed off, the Pale Man watching. “Tell me you know where this military base is.” 

“Only roughly. It’s in a heavily restricted area in the future.” 

“Never been there?” Silver asked.

Cable hesitated for a long moment, considering his response. “The future’s very different,” he said finally. “The base I know is most likely nowhere near the same as it is now. Hell, Weapon X wasn’t even affiliated with Essex Corp in the future. There was no Essex Corp in my time.” 

“It’s a lead. And I’m guessing this Pale Man is also the Sinister Man?” Wade asked. Cable nodded. “Great. Dopinder, get on that. I want to know who this guy is. And get a courier for three to Canada.” 

“Four.” 

Wade turned. It was one of the skinny kids from the bar. He gestured at the CCTV and started talking excitedly in Spanish, too quickly for Wade’s basic grasp of the language to follow. Cable frowned. “Miles says he owes Domino and Russell. He wants to help.”

“No. That’s enough child endangerment for this story,” Wade said firmly, even as there was a familiar dull roar coming down from above. Miles raised his voice as he kept talking. 

“He said he called the Mansion once we arrived and Yukio and Ellie are coming too,” Cable said, resigned, “and we might as well all take the plane.” 

“I fucking hate kids,” Wade said, if without any real heat. He turned to Miles. “Okay. Fine. You’re in. What can you do? Superpowers?” Wade made vague gestures in the air. Miles stared at them for a long moment, then he walked up to the wall and climbed up, somehow sticking onto the surface. 

It was way more creepy than it should’ve been. 

Wade shuddered. “Yeeesh. That’s way too much like the Exorcist. If you can turn your neck around the other way too, I’m going to scream and shoot something.”

#

Sadly the X-Kids hadn’t brought Colossus. Why even was there no Colossus in this sequel? For shame. The man had a literally sculpted butt. Yukio got up from the cockpit as Wade walked into the plane, radiating concern as she approached. “Wade.” She hugged him tightly, to his surprise, patting his back. “Don’t worry, okay? We’ll get Russell back.”

Wade eyed Negasonic, who was in the co-pilot’s seat and shooting him a surprisingly dirty stare for an Economy!Bieber. “Thanks Yukio. When we save him—again—I’m going to kick his ass. _Figuratively_ ,” he said, as Silver frowned at him as she went past. 

Yukio nodded soberly and scooted back to the pilot’s seat. Wade sat behind her, studying the control dashboard over her shoulder. “Wow. Is there anything you can’t do? You’re magic. Seriously, you don’t have to be dating Monochrome over here. Do you have a crush on literally anyone else?” 

"Fuck you, Wilson," Negasonic muttered.

Yukio giggled. She waited for everyone to strap down before flicking at switches. The plane began to hum. “Where to?” she asked. 

“Alberta, Canada. Apparently.” Wade looked over at Cable pointedly. 

“In my time there was an actual artificial lake nearby. Not sure about now,” Cable said. His arm projected a map against the cockpit glass that had a large area shaded out against a mountain range.

“Not much help there, but I’m sure narrative convenience will help us out,” Wade said. Once they were at cruising altitude, Yukio activated what looked like the autopilot. “Aren’t you going to get into serious trouble?” Wade asked her. 

Negasonic shrugged. “Good trouble,” she said. 

“I don’t care about you, I meant Yukio.” 

“It’ll be fine. Although. Maybe we should’ve told Colossus that we were going to borrow the plane,” Yukio said doubtfully. 

“He’ll have raised a fuss and insisted on waiting for the Professor and the others to get back from South America,” Negasonic said. “Gone on about how it should be ‘handled by dee add-alts’.” 

“We’ll get your niece back too,” Yukio told Silver conscientiously. “And Miss Domino. I’m sure they’re all okay?”

Silver gave her a tired smile. “Hoping so.” She looked over at Wade. “Feels like we’ve been doing way too much plane-hopping recently.” 

“Don’t look at me. Blame story architecture. We _could_ have maybe picked out this place from the start with Cerebro,” Wade told Cable, who snorted. 

“That thing isn’t so easy to use. Even if I was a pure telepath. And uninfected.”

“See? See? Fucking narrative cop-outs.” Wade peered over at Miles, who was sitting quietly in the last row. “And what’s your story, kid? Maybe we’re trying a little _too_ hard to mirror the plot of the Logan film. And you’re nowhere as cute as Mini-Wolverine.” 

Miles stared unblinkingly up at him. “Long story,” he said, then something else in Spanish. Yukio started to giggle, then cut herself off, looking over guiltily at Wade. Cable cracked a faint smile. 

“Did he just insult me?” Wade asked, suspicious. 

“Not really?” Yukio said. She giggled again. Miles said something else and folded his arms, looking away. At least the non-powered brother hadn’t made a huge fuss when told that he couldn’t come along. They’d left Dopinder looking increasingly harried at the bar. 

“He said this is like an Oceans Eleven film, but cooler. If not for you,” Cable said, and smirked.

“Firstly, there are six of us. Oceans Six. Nine, if you count the people we’re going off to rescue. Secondly, Oceans Eleven is a heist film about robbing casinos. This is more like Prison Break.” 

“No Prison Break,” Miles said, indignant. “Maybe Argo.” 

“You watched _Argo_ at your age? Or did you just google that off a list of Top Rescue Mission Films?” Wade asked skeptically. Miles growled a string of Spanish at him of which the only word Wade recognised was _cabrón_. “Besides, Argo sucks. It minimised the role of the Canadian embassy. Fuck that movie.” 

“Saving Private Ryan,” Miles suggested. He pointed at Silver. “She Tom Hanks.” 

“That’s a pretty unlucky thing to say, seeing as Captain Tom Hanks gets mortally wounded by Joerg Stadler. _And_ I’m pretty sure you’re way too young to have seen that film. Start of the Expensively Rescuing Matt Damon Franchise.” 

“Martian potato,” Miles said, grinning. 

Wade let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, I know, right? That guy’s fucking everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in my previous film.” Miles giggled. 

Okay. Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad. Exorcist abilities and everything. 

“You’re good with kids,” Cable said quietly, as they left New York behind under the clouds. He sounded… wistful, in a weird way.

“Same wavelength maybe,” Silver said, though she smiled briefly. “Really not sure about bringing all these children into the field, Wilson. It’s gonna be dangerous enough just with us.” 

“Yeah, well, you try and stop them,” Wade said, resigned. “Normal kids are bad enough. When you add superpowers into the mix, I’m surprised Xavier even managed to get insurance on his place. I don’t know how he can stand looking after all of them. He’s probably mainlining Prozac 24/7 from a hidden drip in his wheelchair.” 

Silver shook her head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Settle down and don’t jinx the mission.” Wade paused. “But if you die, tell me I’m going to get paid.” 

“…I was starting to think you weren’t as bad as I thought,” Silver told him. 

“Oh, that? That kinda feeling usually passes,” Wade said brightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refs:  
> http://www.businessinsider.com/food-prices-high-northern-canada-2017-9/?r=AU&IR=T/  
> Matt Damon and Alan Tudyk were the truckers that Cable steals the beer from.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm do I still need to warn for Infinity War spoilers? Anyway, there are IW spoilers in this chapter.

Domino woke into the light. She was strapped to a hospital bed, blinking against the glare. Blood was being drained out of her from a tube inserted into her arm. Looking around with a tight gasp, she saw that she was in one bed of dozens in two rows. People were being drained in all of them. Some where pale and shrunken into themselves. Monitors stood beside each drip, measuring everyone’s vitals. Domino grit her teeth, pulling weakly against the straps on her wrists. 

“C’mon, Lady Luck,” Domino whispered, “I’ve never needed your help more.” She’d thought she’d felt a mild electric shock from the collar when it’d been put on her, but it still sat heavily against her shoulders. 

The Pale Man had gotten monstrously strong since she’d last seen him, decades ago in the Home. How even the fuck had he done that? The fight had been over before Domino could get close. Despair choked her up as she remembered being hoisted up by nothing into the air, and she squeezed tears from her eyes with a low sob.

Her monitor started a loud, insistent beeping. “Shut up!” Domino hissed at it as she tried hauling again at her restraints. Even her ankles were tied down. She was still pulling frantically at them as two masked men in white coats hurried in. They looked at her dispassionately, then at the monitor. 

“Sedative wore off earlier than it should’ve,” Glasses said. “Goddamned machine. The automatic dose was too low.” 

“I'll set it to a bigger dose. Give her a shot manually for now,” said No-Glasses, tapping on the monitor to check out her vitals. Glasses circled around the bed, to get to the cabinet of supplies behind Domino’s bed. He returned with a syringe that contained a clear fluid. As he grabbed Domino’s arm, searching for a vein, the monitor beeped loudly. No-Glasses flinched back in shock, bumping hard against Glasses, who flailed as he fell, burying the syringe in No-Glasses’ arm. 

No-Glasses staggered back, scrabbling for purchase. His fingers hooked into and yanked up the strap in the buckled cuff on Domino’s arm, hauling it free. With a snarl, Domino’s hand shot back to grab a fistful of No-Glasses’ shirt. She hauled him forward and he sprawled over her knees, headbutting Glasses in the chest as he tried to get close. Taser in his coat. Domino grabbed it, leaning up on an elbow and tasing Glasses before he could stumble back. No-Glasses moaned, trying to get up, but whatever sedative they were using was fast-acting: he went still. 

Domino breathed. She freed herself and carefully removed the drips. Sitting up made her dizzy for a while, but she shook it off after a few breathing exercises. Then she felt at the collar at her neck. It sparked as she hauled at the catch and came off as she tugged, its red light blinking. So it hadn’t ever been working. Electrical malfunction? Domino grinned.

No-Glasses was about her height. Domino buttoned on his white coat and put on the badge. She dosed both of them with sedatives, then checked the medical chart hooked onto the base of the next bed. And the next. 

No one in the room was named Arlette, and no one resembled Silver. Domino pursed her lips. She undid an arm strap on each bed, then turned off the auto dosage on each monitor. Retrieving the tasers and grabbing her clipboard, she rubbed her throat and faced the exit. The Pale Man had to be around here somewhere. And Russell. And Arlette. 

Searching the coat’s pockets, Domino found an iPhone 7. She used No-Glasses’ thumb to unlock it via touch ID and turned off its auto lock. Checking Google Maps for her location, Domino hummed to herself and called Dopinder. He picked up after a few rings, sounding groggy.

“Um. Who’s this please?”

“It’s Domino.” 

“Miss Domino! Oh, thank the Gods.” 

“Keep praying for now,” Domino said. “I’m going to send you a screenshot of my Google Maps location.”

“Where’s Russell? Is he okay?”

“Working on that. Where’s Wilson? I’m in some buttfuck nowhere mountain range in Canada.”

“Already on his way up. Mister Cable said he knew which ‘Alkali Lake’ is the right one.” 

“Convenient,” Domino said approvingly. She liked convenient. “Once he has reception, tell him where I am. And give him this number.” 

“Okay. Good luck.”

Domino laughed. “Always.” She opened Google Maps again, sent a few screenshots of her location from different zooms to Dopinder, then slipped the phone into a pocket. 

She stepped out into what looked like a hospital floor. There were more wards behind doors to her left and right, some of them empty. She picked a direction and walked. The few night staff she passed ignored her as she kept her head down and stared hard at the clipboard in her hands. Domino wasn’t really sure where to go next. Getting safely to a security room like she had in the ICE building was probably going to be beyond even her powers. The facility felt huge. And if she ran into the Pale Man by herself—

Domino’s phone buzzed her. She power-walked down the corridors until she found a bathroom, ducking inside and locking herself into a cubicle. It was Dopinder, with a text saying that he’d emailed her a virus and to open it if possible on any computer she found. Hmm. Domino edged out of the bathroom and checked the next few doors. The one closest to the lifts opened into a small administrative office, piled high with paperwork. The chair was still warm and the computer was running—whoever it was had probably gone to get a coffee refill. Grinning to herself, Domino opened up a browser window. Time to start fucking shit up.

#

“Told you. Narrative convenience,” Wade said, as the plane began its descent. Above the dash, Cable’s computer projected a map based on Domino’s screenshot.

“You mean Domino’s powers,” Cable said. 

“Her _imaginary_ powers.” Wade scowled. “If she was really the human Goddess of Fortune or something then how’d she get sent to Torture-Orphanage as a kid? How’d she not murder the Pale Man when she fought him? Why isn’t she swimming in gazillions of dollars?” 

“We could’ve used up all the fuel going in circles around the mountains without finding this place otherwise,” Negasonic told him. 

Wade pulled a face. “Suuure. You can believe in imaginary powers and unicorns all you like, Twilight Sparkle.” Negasonic rolled her eyes. 

“We’re getting close,” Yukio said, rechecking the map. “I’m going to set us down somewhere. We should try and get closer on foot.” 

“Bad feeling,” Miles said abruptly from the back. He looked anxiously over as Wade scowled briefly at him. 

“Okay kid. You might be… spider-adjacent… because we’ve weaselled around the character rights issue somehow, but honestly, ‘spider senses’ make no sense whatsoever, spiders do not have a fucking ‘spider sense’, I have personally killed fucking tons of spiders— _sweet mother of Christ we have incoming!_ ” 

“Hang on!” Yukio banked the plane sharply to the left. The orange tail of an AA missile streaked past, narrowly missing them. They weren’t so lucky with the second one. It hit the flank of the plane and tore a hole in the hull with a roar of fire and the wind. 

Decompression ripped Cable out from his seat. Wade didn’t even think. He was out of his seat and swiping the parachute pack from beneath it, sprinting as he dived out of the plane. Angling into the drop, it felt like forever until Wade was close enough to grab hold of Cable. Cable was blinking, dazed as Wade strapped the parachute onto him through sheer habit—thanks Special Forces training—and pulled the release. 

The parachute deploying yanked Cable back and out of reach, and Wade was falling in the air, straight down towards the tree line. 

Ah, fuck. This was gonna hurt. 

Silver floated down to Wade as he was busy dragging a splintered branch out of the middle of his chest. Yukio and Negasonic were clutched to her flanks, and Miles was clinging to her back. “You okay?” Silver asked as she landed on the ground.

“Cockmuppet says what?” Wade gaped at her. “You’re a fucking mutant too? Goddamnit. I _did_ think you were way too good a sniper to be true.” 

Silver let go of the kids and looked around. “Saw you try to save Cable. Did he make it?” 

“Too busy getting impaled on a tree to check.” Wade got the last of the branch out and breathed slowly as he waited for the wound to close and his bones to knit. “Damn that hurt.” Yukio stepped over, her eyes wide with concern. “It’s okay, Yukio. Just. Need a bit.” 

“I think I have an aspirin,” Yukio said, patting down her pockets. 

“Huh. Wonder if that’ll work? Gimme the whole pack.” 

They found Cable downslope, cutting himself loose from the parachute, which was tangled in a tree. He dropped down and glanced over as they approached. “Everyone good?” Cable asked. 

“I think I’ve absorbed so much plant matter into my bloodstream that I’m gonna be able to photosynthesise,” Wade said, still picking leaves off his suit. Also, this particular costume was never going to be the same again. 

Cable looked at the bloodied rip and sucked in a slow breath. “Thanks for the save.” 

“Yeah well, turns out the Lieutenant here can fly so I probably shouldn’t even have fucking bothered. What even. I thought we were closer than that,” Wade told Silver sadly. “We bonded over chimichangas.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Silver started walking, the kids following close by. Cable waited until Wade started to pass him by, then snagged him over. 

“Saved my life,” Cable said solemnly. 

“Probably didn’t. You’ve survived worse.” 

“Maybe.” Cable kissed him on the edge of his mouth and let go, straightening up as Wade stepped in to get a proper, lip-locked kiss. 

“Guys,” Silver called from further down the slope, amused and exasperated. 

“You lost the Awesome Gun,” Wade told Cable, as they jogged to keep up.

He shrugged. “I’ll make another one.” Cable still had his pistols and flashbangs, thankfully.

“What? If you can just churn those out, why didn’t you make one for me?” Wade pouted. “I would’ve totally appreciated that way more than a round of drinks a week.” 

“Don’t make one for him,” Negasonic said. “Seriously.” 

“Nobody asked for your opinion, Budget Siouxsie,” Wade shot back. Yukio giggled.

“Maybe,” Cable said, amused. 

They emerged from the edge of a cliff that overlooked a lake beneath, created by a distant dam. No visible research facility. Wade double-checked Domino’s screenshot. “It’s supposed to be down there somewhere,” he said doubtfully. 

“We’ll get closer and check.” Silver looked at the kids. “It’s a military base. Some kinda private black site by the looks of it. Really think you three should hang back and radio the X-Men for pickup. We won’t be able to guarantee your safety.” 

Miles instantly shook his head. Yukio and Negasonic glanced at each other, then Negasonic folded her arms. Yukio smiled ingratiatingly. “Well. We’re already here. And Russell still needs our help.”

“They shot AA missiles at us. There’d probably be worse below,” Silver said. “They know we’re here. We’ll be going in hot.” 

“We can go in with you or behind you,” Negasonic said. “Russell asked us for help and we weren’t there so he got caught. We want to make up for it.” 

“Wilson.” Silver looked over at Wade for support.

“I’ve never been able to get these kids to do what I want. Don’t look at me.” Wade raised his hands in mock-surrender. 

“Heads up. Got company,” Cable said. Below, a seam was opening in the lake, water draining away to either edge into grooves. A steel ramp fed out onto the beach and several vans rolled out, marked with Essex Corp logos. A group of armed soldiers followed the vans out and began to patrol the beach.

“James Bond,” Miles said, round-eyed. 

“Let’s get our Shape of Water on,” Wade said, drawing his guns. He paused. “Maybe with more fish sex and less cat death.”

#

They made short work of the guards on the beach. “Remember, the reason why the lot of you are going to need therapy is because you didn’t want to listen to Silver when she told you guys to butt out,” Wade told Yukio and the kids.

Negasonic sighed. She looked troubled as she jerked her stare away from the dead and over to the water. Yukio was busy patting Miles on the back as he threw up further down the beach. “So how do we get in?” Negasonic asked. “They closed the ramp.”

“No shit, I totally didn’t notice when they closed the Not So Secret Entrance,” Wade said sourly. He called Dopinder. “Favourite minion, this is a good time to tell me that your virus-whatsit that you had Domino install is going to let me part the lake like fucking Moses.”

“Working on it, Mister Pool!” 

Wade hung up. “I guess we wait and hope the other vans don’t come back. Or hope that they do. I’m getting bored.” 

Cable stared uneasily out over the lake. He’d been quiet since the cliff. “Wade. Can I talk to you for a sec.” 

“You already are?” 

“I mean just us, dipshit. Alone.” Cable grabbed Wade’s arm and tugged him some distance away from the dead bodies and mildly traumatised X-kids. 

“Is this about Russell again?” Wade asked suspiciously, once they were maybe out of hearing of the peanut gallery. Silver and the kids were clearly trying their best not to look like they were paying attention. 

“No. It’s. About me.” Cable looked visibly uncomfortable. 

“Um, when I said we should have a Talk after the mission, I kinda meant after we rescued Arlette and stuff. Now’s maybe not the time? For a talk about feels?” Wade wasn’t even sure how to have that kinda talk. He’d never really had to with ‘Ness. She’d been more or less on his wavelength. They understood each other, sometimes without Wade having to say anything. He’d liked—loved—that about her. 

“Not what I meant. Just giving you a heads up. In case something happens in there,” Cable said. 

“Something happens to what? You need to pee? Probably should’ve gone on the plane before it exploded. Or do it now behind a bush.” 

“Just. Listen for a sec. Okay. First. I want you to promise me that no matter what, you’re still gonna try your damnedest to rescue Arlette and Russell. And that if you get the chance to kill the Pale Man, you’d take it.”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure. I was going to do all that anyway,” Wade said, mystified. 

“Right. Remember when I said I was infected with this at birth?” Cable poked at his arm. “The guy who did it… hell, the guy who engineered my birth in the first place by creating the clone who’d become my biological mother—is a guy called Nathaniel Essex. I’ve seen a photo of him. He was the guy on the CCTV. The Pale Man.” 

Wade gaped at Cable. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” 

“Because this isn’t about me. It’s about finally doing something right.” 

“Nope. No. Let’s put aside the boring-ass hero talk kinda dialogue, it doesn’t suit you in this current continuity anyway. I meant. So if we kill the Pale Man. You’d what, go through a ‘I don’t feel so good’ sequence? Is this a Winter Soldier thing?” 

“I don’t know what will happen. Time travel isn’t exactly an exact science. Even in the future. I’m just telling you all this in case something does happen and I’m factored into some plan of yours or Silver’s.” 

Wade exhaled loudly. “Fuck this shit. What the fuck is _with_ stories like this. That’s the problem with a company where a white guy can pretend to be a Japanese guy for years to advance his career, get caught, and still get named Editor-in-Chief. Quality control goes to hell.” Wade pulled up his mask to his nose, curled his hands into Cable’s shirt and pulled him over for a kiss. Angry and bitter and confused as he was. Because nothing good happened to Wade for long anyway. The universe always course-corrected itself. 

“Hey,” Cable said quietly, when they broke for breath. “Remember your promise.”

“I hate everything,” Wade muttered. “I don’t even. I don’t even like you that much and I’m pissed. I mean. You are seriously hot and I’d like to grow less conflicted about the sociopathy thing over time, maybe by reading a lot more Women’s Weekly, but. What even the fuck.” 

Cable huffed, amused. “You think I’m happy that I somehow find you hot? There are a lot of things that I like about you. But you’re also one of the biggest fuckwits I’ve ever met.” He pressed a closemouthed kiss against Wade’s lips, his metal arm curled around Wade’s back. 

Wade swallowed the urge to yell, to shoot something repeatedly. He poked Cable in the shoulder as he tipped back. “Three days and a bit ago, I really didn’t like you. I used to dream about you getting hit by a truck. Then we had our little adventure up in Libya and it feels like something’s changed. When we kissed. Did the Mile High Club thing. Now you can imagine my disappointment when it’s dawned on me that the guy I maybe don’t actually dislike that much is going to get fucked by time travel logic, and not even in a fun way.”

“You’re. Seriously quoting the Proposal. Really?” Cable started to laugh, his startled mirth shaking out against Wade, pressed so close. The resignation and deadened cast to his face faded. Good. Even if was just for now. 

“You people still know about that movie in the future?” Wade grinned. “Aww. You’re a fan. That’s so cute. You like romcoms? _Hilarious_. It’s always the grimdark people. Which one’s your favourite, huh? I bet I can guess. Bridget Jones’s Diary? Princess Bride?”

“Jesus, you’re such a fuckwit,” Cable said, though he smiled and leaned in, kissing Wade hard on the mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refs:  
> https://io9.gizmodo.com/marvels-editor-in-chief-really-wishes-we-could-all-just-1826509024?IR=T  
> Josh Brolin loves the Proposal, so the reference was eventually going to worm in somewhere in one of my fics.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 chapter update :3

The first thing Arlette did when her collar deactivated was try to teleport. Five minutes later, she picked herself slowly off the concrete, dry-heaving and shaking. Her left flank where she’d hit the electrostatic barrier around the large cylindrical room smelled like slow-cooking meat. The room was loud with laughter from the overhead speakers. 

Coughing, Arlette got to her feet, pulling off the collar and tossing it away. The room was about half the width of a basketball court. Single exit. Cameras up high. She backed slowly away from the door, dropping into a combat-ready crouch. Squeezed the panic down. This was something new. Meant that she had a chance to get out if the situation turned kinetic. 

When Arlette was taken from her cell she’d feared the worst. Tried to keep on a brave face even as Narya shouted at the guards to take her instead, even as Russell hollered that he was going to ‘do something’. She’d prayed that they’d be okay. But most of all, maybe selfishly, she’d prayed for Aunt Silver to come out of nowhere to save her. 

“Nobody’s coming,” Arlette whispered to herself, watching the door, “and that’s fine by me.” She was a goddamned ninja. Didn’t need anyone. 

By the time the door opened, Arlette had shoved her panic back into calm. She’d been debating trying to port or jump through the gap, but her captors had thought of that possibility. What fed up against the door was the mouth of an electrostatic cage, which locked seamlessly against the door. Within it was a huge furry mass.

A familiar one. 

“ _Lieutenant_?” Arlette said, incredulous. The mass stirred, raising a flat bestial face lined with thick brown fur. Lieutenant Walter Langowski didn’t look much the worse for wear in his second form, though his fur was scorched near his neck. He yawned, baring sharp white teeth. Langowski breathed in heavy huffs and uncurled, pulling his bulk out into the cylinder. 

“Oh Gods, you’re okay. Thank the Gods.” Arlette started over, beaming, so relieved that her voice wavered. “Narya’s okay too. I don’t know what happened to the others though. I nearly escaped and—”

If Arlette hadn’t been so keyed up, Langowski’s abrupt backhand would have smashed her away into the wall. She ‘ported back several feet on sheer instinct, wide-eyed. “Lieutenant? It’s me. Arlette Tang. We first met at Carling Campus?”

Langowski growled, shaking himself. No recognition. “Interesting thing about the Lieutenant,” an unfamiliar voice said overhead, “he actually triggered his own latent mutation with gamma radiation. He was trying to recreate a similar incident in New York, except under controlled circumstances.” 

“What the fuck have you guys done to him?” Arlette growled, stepping back.

“Merely completed his experiment. By increasing his exposure to gamma radiation over the months, we’ve accelerated the mutation in his genes. It’s a curious way of unlocking latents, albeit one that has proven unstable to date. The chance of cancer, you see. It’s already started to metastasize in our Lieutenant here.”

Arlette privately shuffled Unknown Voice to the top of her hit list and bit down her grief and anger. Cancer? “Lieutenant. Don’t you remember me? On the first day, you said you knew my aunt, Silver. She was a lieutenant in the JTF2 when you were a corporal. Jhimon Tang? And my father was there too, though you didn’t like him. I didn’t like him much either. Growing up. He was a mean guy who drank a lot. I used to think he was the reason my aunt quit the JTF2 and you said you were pretty sure that was the case.”

Langowski huffed. He shook himself, looking around with a snort, ignoring her. Then he howled and flinched, scratching at something in his neck. A collar, hidden under his fur, thinner than the suppression one Arlette had been wearing. Langowski snarled. He took a step back and howled again. Snarling, still scratching at the collar with a huge hand, he lumbered forward and broke into a charge. 

Arlette backed away to the crackling edge of the wall. “Lieutenant, _please_ ,” she said, holding up her palms. Langowski didn’t even slow. He swung as he got close. Arlette ‘ported away to the other side of the room at the last moment. Langowski yowled. His fist had smashed into the electrostatic wall. He staggered back, cradling his burned fingers. Turned and glared at Arlette with a snarl.

“Please,” Arlette whispered. 

“Teleportation isn’t an uncommon ability,” said the voice from above, “but it’s such an _interesting_ one, from a scientific point of view. The power to shift through time and space. Disassembling and reassembling atomically into the right combination, at the right space. So much could go wrong. It takes a lot of energy.” 

Langowski charged. Again Arlette flickered away at the last second. Langowski’s fist slammed into the doorframe, making the attached cage shudder against its clasps. 

“Yes. That’s the wonder and horror of what we do here, Warden. These poor people born—through no fault of their own—as aberrations against Nature might, through their own creation, be the solution to many of our problems. A cure for cancer is already within our reach. And there might be more. A breakthrough in the fight against Time, perhaps. What people like the Qin Emperor once dreamed of. Immortality.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” Arlette yelled at the unseen watchers. She was starting to feel the strain. Sweating into her clothes. She had to conserve her energy. At Langowski’s next charge, Arlette tried diving out of the way instead of teleporting. 

He’d become even faster than she remembered. Langowski’s hand shot out, closing over her waist. He slammed her heavily against the ground. Arlette screamed. Something shattered in her thigh. Dazed, she struggled weakly as Langowski raised her into the air. Somehow Arlette managed the presence of mind to ‘port. She staggered as she reappeared by the cage, breathing hard. Pain lanced up through her leg as it collapsed under her. Arlette yelped as she came down in a heap over her elbow. Something else cracked. 

Langowski howled in triumph. He’d tasted blood and his eyes burned with a hungry feral gleam. Twisting around, Langowski charged her again, swinging. Arlette grit her teeth against the pain and forced herself into a ‘port, landing against Langowski’s shoulders as he slammed his fist again into the frame of the cage. Something sparked and stank of burning plastic. Arlette scrabbled for a grip over Langowski’s shoulders. Dug her fingers into the collar around his neck and hauled uselessly at it as he whirled, trying to shake her off. Something sparked against her fingers, burning hot. Arlette let out a yelp of shock as she fell off, rolling instinctively to break the fall. Langowski barreled forward, thrown off balance, slamming his shoulder heavily against the door frame. 

With a final groan, the clasps gave way. Sparks rained from the sundered electrostatic barrier. Just a gap. Arlette forced herself into the jump. 

She landed badly, fetching up against the wall outside, bowling a guard off balance. Grabbing his holstered gun, she shot him, then balanced herself on her back and fired from the ground, taking out his partner. Within the cylinder, Langowski snarled and clawed at the gap. 

“Sorry,” Arlette gasped, between sobs of pain. “Oh Gods. I’m sorry, sir.” She grabbed the other guard’s spare gun and stuck it into her belt. Arlette scrabbled to get to her feet. Behind her, there was a heavy thud. Langowski screamed. 

Arlette wiped tears from her eyes. She tried to push herself into a final jump, one that would take her as far up and out as she could. To her surprise, she only fetched up at the end of the corridor. Her limbs ached. Out of juice. Nausea caused her to dry-retch for a moment before she got hold of herself and got back up. The security door was so close.

Behind her there was a hollow boom. Langowski was out. He looked around, sniffing, and spotted her. Arlette forced herself into a limping jog, knowing it was useless. Tight corridor. No more juice. Nowhere to run. 

The security door opened. A black woman in a doctor’s coat stepped out, taking in the scene and blinking in surprise. Arlette snarled, raising her gun, only to freeze as Narya grabbed her wrist and turned the muzzle of the gun away. “Hey. You did good, Cadet.” Narya said softly.

“Narya! Langowski, he’s—I don’t know what’s happened. How did you get free?” 

“Domino here let us out.” That was from a stout kid behind them both. He smiled up at Arlette and waved. “Hi. I’m Russell. Nice to meet in person eh.” 

“We’re going to have to move. Langowski’s gone berserk,” Arlette said urgently. 

“Yeah. I’ll deal with that. Get her out of here, I’ll catch up,” Narya told Domino, who nodded and pulled Arlette’s arm over her shoulder. 

“Narya,” Arlette pleaded. Narya ignored her, turning to face Langowski.

“We take care of our own.” She flexed her fingers, breaking into a run. Once clear of the corridor and into the circular space around the cylinder her form began to blur. A great wolf twisted into stride where she had been, jaws bared as it lunged. 

“ _Woooow_ ,” Russell breathed. Domino grabbed at his shirt collar, tugging. 

“No time to sightsee. Let’s go.”

#

Domino might have imaginary superpowers but even Wade had to concede that she was a natural talent for wreaking mayhem. The facility was in chaos. Cable brought up his orange shield as guards fired at them from behind a security checkpoint, the bullets thudding into the air. Wade and Silver returned fire with suppressed guns, still ringingly loud in the enclosed space.

Negasonic let out a series of blasts that knocked the checkpoint door down. Wade started to walk through, only for Miles to leap past him. Something flew through the air towards them. Miles grabbed it and flung it back. A grenade. It clattered into the end of the corridor just as Wade hastily clapped his hands over Miles’ ears. _Boom_. “Not bad, kid,” Wade said approvingly. 

“Saving Matt Damon,” Miles said, with a breathless grin. 

“Yeah, well, just make sure you’re not one of those characters who gets sacrificed to give everyone else emotions.” Wade took out guards charging into the breach with a burst of quick double-taps. He stepped out past burned bodies only to get punched heavily into the wall, cracking the concrete. Grimacing, Wade looked up. And up. 

“Wow. You’re even uglier in real life,” Wade told Burned Guy from the CCTV footage. 

Burned Guy growled. He grabbed Wade by the skull, raising him into the air. An electrified coil wrapped around his wrist, sparking brightly. Burned Guy yelped in pain, dropping Wade but grabbing the whip and dragging hard. Yukio gasped as she was hauled roughly forward, only to come to a sudden stop as Cable’s dud eye brightened. Yukio grit her teeth, and the electrical charge surged up into a bright line so hot that Wade had to look away.

Weirdly, that didn’t even stop Burned Guy. He hissed and started to walk forward, shouldering through the door. Then Miles dropped from the ceiling onto his back. As Burned Guy roared and twisted around, Miles’ wrist flicked against his neck. The kid jumped free and back to the wall, scuttling quickly out of reach. Burned Guy lumbered drunkenly to the side, staggering as Negasonic hit him with a blast. He slumped against the wall, still, breathing shallowly. 

“What in the ass?” Wade walked over, prodding Burned Guy with his foot.

“Poison,” Miles said, dropping to the ground. He gestured with his palm. “Vulcan nerve pinch.” 

“Poison? Like a stinger? Ooh, we’re going to get into trouble. You can’t be both spider-adjacent _and_ wasp-adjacent _and_ Spock-adjacent,” Wade said warily. “This isn’t even the same franchise!”

Silver pushed past, gun held low. “Move, trooper.” 

The corridor fed out into a large concrete chamber the size of a football field. Crates were stacked against one side, vehicles to another. There was even a plane, not that Wade could tell offhand how it was meant to get out. Huh. 

“Big space. Lots of cover. I smell a bossfight,” Wade said. Cable eyed him meaningfully as he strode out across the open space, and Wade grit his teeth as his excitement soured. Boss fights were meant to be _fun_. Being screwed if you lost and screwed if you won was a serious narrative headfuck.

“Maybe we could put him into a prison or something,” Wade said, jogging to keep up. 

“No. You promised,” Cable said.

“Nobody else did. Besides, I’m an X-man now—”

“Not,” Negasonic muttered. 

“—and I think there’s a rule against killing anyone who’s a named character. Guards don’t count.” Wade ignored Negasonic. “Or maybe it won’t matter. Nobody dies in Marvel anyway, right?”

A door burst open from the far side. Russell charged out, hands glowing. He stopped when he saw them, whooping and waving. Domino was right behind him, guns raised. And behind her was a… huge polar bear? With a young Chinese woman on its back? Wade gawked openly, even as Silver let out a cry of joy and rushed over. She hugged Presumably-Arlette, who hugged her back and sobbed against her shoulder. 

“Mission accomplished,” Russell said, grinning as he walked up to Wade. 

“Yeah, and you are so grounded, kid.” Wade holstered a gun and ruffled Russell’s hair, smirking as he growled and batted at his hand. “Guessing that recreation of the Golden Compass over there involves Arlette?” 

“Yup.” Russell hugged Wade, ignoring Wade’s flinch. “Man. I knew you’d show up. You are the _bestest_ guardian. Even if you’re an asshole sometimes and you smell funny.” 

“Who smells funny?” Wade muttered. He pried Russell off him even as Cable looked up sharply and the polar bear began to growl. From the far end, the large sliding doors slid apart. The Pale Man strode through, flanked by a tall guy with over-long clawed arms, a young pink-haired guy, and a guy with a batlike face. “Well, that’s just lazy recruitment,” Wade said, blinking. “The enemy superhero team is _so_ not diverse. It’s the 21st Century, dude!” 

“Get Arlette out of here,” Cable told Silver. “We’ll hold them off.” Silver’s jaw set, but she nodded and started for the exit, the polar bear on her heels. The Pale Man gestured. A crate rose in the air and bowled itself towards the bear, only to be knocked out of its arc by a blast from Negasonic. “You kids should leave too,” Cable told Negasonic and the others. 

“You’d be outnumbered without us,” Russell shot back. He threw a fiery blast down the concrete that splashed off a shield flung up inches away from the Pale Man’s outstretched palm. 

“Do we really have to recreate the CG’d carpark fight scene from Civil War?” Wade complained. “I don’t think that polled well with audiences. This is going to be worse. We don’t have Iron Man. We don’t even have the unnecessary archer guy.”

The long-armed guy surged forward, claws outstretched. Yukio’s whip looped around him and sparked, but he didn’t seem phased, his hand melting into goop that flowed slickly up the whip. She dropped it with a yelp as Negasonic blasted a hole in his side—which quickly closed. With a roar, Russell set him on fire. _That_ seemed to work. The guy caught alight quickly, backing off and shrieking, rolling on the floor and leaving burning stains where he went. 

“On the other hand, we do seem to have achieved Marvel-adjacent fatalities. Maybe you should look uh, waaay over there,” Wade told Cable. Cable shook his head. He fired a shot at the bat-faced guy, who darted to the side and pounced, barrelling right into Cable and sending them both skidding across the concrete. Miles ran after them both. Domino was charging for the Pale Man, firing a pistol, but the bullets stopped in the air and clattered away. Pink-Haired stepped in front of the Pale Man and opened his mouth. At his shout, the air in front of him wavered, and Domino was flung away. She landed heavily on Russell, who yelped. 

“Guess I have to do everything myself,” Wade said. He tossed a grenade over at Pink-Haired. When Pink-Haired started to breathe in instead of ducking away, Wade aimed and fired at the grenade. 

“Ugh, gross,” Russell said, as he scrambled out from under Domino, staring at the mess. 

“It worked, didn’t it? Everyone’s a critic,” Wade told him. 

Russell rolled his eyes. He started towards Cable even as Yukio pressed her palm to cabling on the ground, electricity surging up and shocking the guy Cable and Miles were grappling with. As he staggered to the side with a yelp, Cable drew back his arm, the limb whirring, and punched the bat-adjacent guy into the wall. 

“And then there were one,” Wade told the Pale Man, who smiled.

The Pale Man drew his hands up. All of them rose up from the ground—only to drop as a crate smacked into the Pale Man from behind. Cable’s eye burned. Domino rolled and came up firing, but the bullets pinged away, one even ricocheting and scouring through Wade’s arm, making him yelp and drop one of his guns. “Hey!” he told her. 

Domino’s eyes were wide. The Pale Man laughed. “Oh yes, my dear. So very _lucky_.” He punched the air and she was flung back. Miles made a huge leap from behind Wade, catching Domino in the air, only for both of them to freeze in their arc and get slapped down into the floor. 

“Narya said it had to be tech! He’s not really a mutant!” Russell called over. He raised his hands, drawing up a column of fire around the Pale Man that glanced off his invisible shielding. Wade grit his teeth. He grabbed the long cabling from the ground and charged as Russell kept the fire up. The heat was immense, blinding. 

“Now!” Wade called. Russell dropped the fire as Wade threw over the loop of metal. It arced, missing, then turned and looped around the Pale Man. Yukio let out a war-cry. Electricity surged through, going bright over the loops. Wade drew and fired his pistol, emptying the clip. 

The bullets braked to a halt, the loop unwinding itself. The Pale Man pulled off his burned coat to reveal a gleaming vest. Drips ran from under it into the bone-white skin of his arms. He laughed, looking slowly between them, his stare stopping over Cable. “Interesting. At least the day isn’t going to be wasted. I’d have one new specimen.” 

Cable snarled. He started forward, only to be thrown back through the concrete wall and into the room beyond. As he struggled to get to his feet, the Pale Man raised his hands and the ceiling collapsed, burying Cable out of sight. Negasonic and Russell threw twin blasts that pushed the Pale Man back an inch, only for him to gesture, slapping them away into pillars. Wade closed in, katanas drawn. The Pale Man’s hand shot forward, closing tight over his throat. Wade kicked out, his boot catching on one of the drips and wrenching it out of place. 

“Show’s over, fuckface,” Domino said. She was right beside the Pale Man, emptying a clip from her pistol right into his head. Wade dropped to the ground, wheezing, as the Pale Man staggered back—and didn’t drop. He started to chuckle instead, grinning through his bloody mouth. 

“A healing factor was one of the first abilities I absorbed, Neena.” The Pale Man gestured, and Domino cried out as she was punched through the ceiling into what looked like a lab. The Pale Man started to rise after her, but Yukio’s whip flickered out, yanking another drip out of place. He dropped down with a curse, staggering back as Wade reloaded and emptied another clip in his chest. 

“God, people with my powers are annoying,” Wade grit out. “Why won’t. You. _Die_!” 

The Pale Man smirked. He bounced Wade into a van, crunching it in. Yukio started to back off as the Pale Man approached her, just as Domino snarled and jumped from the roof, landing on the Pale Man and pulling him into a chokehold. Yukio charged over and the three of them went down in a scrabbling scrum. As Wade struggled to get to his feet, a voice came from his belt. “Mister Pool! Mister Pool sir! You called?” 

“Really… inconvenient butt dial,” Wade gasped. “Not now, minion!” 

“I’ve broken the encryption on the Essex Corp servers! But something happened? Servers got damaged in the lab section near Miss Domino's phone GPS location? My virus just started mutating in the system. It’s deleting everything Mister Pool! All the Essex Corp research data!” 

“Seriously busy right now!” Wade pushed himself away from the van even as there was a subterranean roar to his left. Dust billowed into the hangar from the room Cable had been thrown into, and within the cloud was a familiar, too-short shape. 

Domino and Yukio were shoved aside as the Pale Man got to his feet with a roar. Cable stepped out into view, dusty and breathing slowly. Wade could only stare. “Cable. Your _arm_.” 

The virus was starting to recede. Even Cable’s dud eye was slowly refocusing into something human. The metal chords ebbed into flesh in dissonant waves down Cable’s arm, through to his wrists, finally fading altogether from his fingertips. Cable flexed his new, fully fleshed hand and smiled thinly. The Pale Man took a step forward towards Cable, then another, and started to come apart. Flesh peeled away, then bone, until there was just a muddy stain. The vest crushed itself into a ball and thudded onto the concrete. 

Cautiously, Wade walked over to Cable, the bones in his back grinding together as they knit back into place. "How did that even? Did you take vitamins before we flew here or something?"

"Mister Pool!" Dopinder was still being butt-dialed. "Is everything okay? Um. Did you want me to try and retrieve the Essex Corp research data?"

Wade's phone slipped out and floated over. "Don't retrieve it," Cable said, and hung up. He handed the phone back. "Purging Essex Corp's databases might have deleted any preliminary or existing research they had on the virus."

“So I guess you were never infected in the first place. But you still did the thing. Killed the Pale Man. Uh. Is there a delay time for the dust transition animation or… besides, did anyone tell Marvel it really just turns people into Powerpoint slides…” Wade trailed off, swallowing a lump in his throat that surprised him. 

“I don’t know.” Cable clenched his hands and rolled his shoulders. “Doesn’t look like something’s gonna happen. This feels good. Weird.” 

“Super-Saiyan mode unlocked?” Wade asked warily. He wasn’t sure what to think. Life didn’t always conspire to work out for long. “That can’t end well. Don’t snap your fingers.” 

“I said before that I don’t think I could stop you even if I had all my powers.” Cable walked over. He pressed his palm against Wade’s hip and curled it around his back when Wade didn’t pull away. “Think that’s still the case. You give me perspective.”

“In a good way…?” Wade prodded at Cable’s newly re-fleshed arm, fascinated. “This looks so weird.” 

“You’re.” Cable concentrated, with a faint frown. “You’re actually _disappointed_? What the fuck, Wade.” 

“I can’t help it! It’s like Emma Watson at the end of Beauty and the Beast! She commits to a furry and then the furry becomes a vanilla guy—” Wade let out a muffled sound as his mask drew up and Cable kissed him on the mouth.

“… Ewwww,” Russell said, from the pillar. “In front of our salad? My _eyes_.” He made a retching sound.

Wade flipped him off without breaking the kiss, and Cable rumbled against him with amusement. Maybe a vanilla Disney ending wasn’t going to be too bad. Maybe it could even work. “If we have to do the ballroom party scene,” Wade told Cable as they broke for air, “you’re the one wearing the golden dress.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refs:  
> Walter “Sasquatch” Langowski actually tried to recreate the Hulk incident by irradiating himself. I don’t even. 
> 
> Click on to the end~~~


	10. Chapter 10

“I can’t believe you gave back the money,” Wade complained. “Are you seriously gonna head in a Mutant Jesus plot direction? Because I’m pretty sure that’s not popular with modern fans. Modern fandom likes things grimdark or retro.” 

“Was _my_ money,” Cable said comfortably. 

They were seated at a round table in Silver’s new restaurant. It was smaller than the original and in a cheaper leg of town, but whatever Wade could smell from the kitchen was making his mouth water. The soft opening was next week: most of the furniture was still in various stages of furious construction against the walls. The kids had followed Arlette and Narya out on a last minute supplies trip and Domino had insisted on helping out in the kitchen. Being here just for the free food, Wade had parked himself early at the table with a huge bowl of prawn crackers. 

“I thought Yukio, her plus-one, and Russell were still grounded, maybe forever,” Wade said as he scrunched on crackers, “having crashed a million-dollar plane and all.” 

“I talked to the Professor.” Cable was checking his phone, his thigh nudged casually against Wade’s under the table. Not too long ago the same thigh would’ve been radiating heat at several degrees higher than flesh. Now it was just warm. 

Still weird.

Wade reached for another cracker. “That must’ve been awkward. Have we completely run over-budget? Are all the remaining cameos gonna be taking place off-screen? Disappointing.”

“Needed to work out some boundaries,” Cable said mildly. 

“Involving… giant floating mutant utopia islands…?” Wade might be okay, sort of, maybe having a _thing_ with Cable now, but ten years of foreshadowing made enjoying the happy ending without getting the screaming heebies a little difficult some mornings. Cable was now probably the most powerful mutant in the world, give or take clones and/or his not!mom on Phoenix!roids. The world was gonna have to get used to that. Not just Wade and Professor Xavier. 

“No. Too much work.” 

“… Nice to see that the sheer old man laziness of you in this continuity might maybe not shit the bed for everyone,” Wade said. Cable let out a snort even as Domino emerged from the kitchens with a number of misshapen dumplings in a bamboo steamer. 

“Y’all get to eat the fucked up practice dumplings that I made,” Domino said, setting it down. She poured black vinegar into a small dish with sliced ginger. “By the way, it’s seriously hot and filled with—”

“ _PFFFFTT._ ” Wade nearly spat out the molten soup trap he’d popped into his mouth.

Domino rolled her eyes. “Aaand of course our resident fuckwit doesn’t wait for the instructions.”

“It’s a fucking dumpling! Why does it need instructions! Jesus. Lucky I have a healing factor.” Wade mopped spilled soup off his Carebears shirt. “It’s a tarp. A delicious tarp.” 

Eating soup dumplings turned out to be way more technical than the tiny things really warranted. As Wade poked suspiciously at a second attempt, Cable said, “You guys need help in there?”

“Nah. Just sit tight and eat the failures,” Domino said. 

“The balance of labour seems kinda gendered,” Wade said conscientiously. Following the instructions meant the dumpling imploded over the spoon and the table. Wade yelped. “Fuck _me_.” 

Domino sniggered. “Yeah, like I want you anywhere near a kitchen area, dickwad. When’s the last time you had a shower?” 

“Does prep-mmfh—” 

Cable kept his palm firmly over Wade’s mouth. “Let us know if we can help.” 

“Sure.” Domino looked amused as she retreated. 

“Prep totally counts,” Wade said, swatting Cable’s hand away. He leaned against Cable and brought up enough recall of their last quickie that Cable coughed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Stop that.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to come all the way to fucking Canada.”

“Because Silver invited everyone to the soft opening?”

“This is more like a soft-soft opening. Kinda prefer maybe something hard- _hard_ , if you get what I mean.” Wade leaned over and grinned wickedly. 

“Kinda wish I didn’t,” Cable said, though he kissed Wade with enough bite to show that he didn’t mean it. “ _Wade_ ,” Cable complained, as Wade tried to climb into his lap. He went nicely still as Wade got a handful of Cable’s package through his jeans and squeezed, because Wade never played fair in love or war. 

As Wade tried to get his hand down Cable’s jeans, there was a loud yelp of “¡Dios mío!” from the entrance of the restaurant. Wade groaned and pressed his forehead to Cable’s shoulder as Cable hastily adjusted them both into a PG position. 

“I’m starting to think you two need a babysitter, not us,” Russell said, squeezing past and ambling past the table, bags of groceries in his arms. Juan and Miles stared round-eyed from the door, while Negasonic rolled her eyes and Yukio giggled. 

“Yeah, well, none of us actual adults were up for that,” Narya said, walking through with other bags. Everyone piled into the kitchen other than Arlette, who was still on crutches. She got to the table and sat down gingerly. 

“Rehab going okay?” Cable asked. 

“Slow going. Had to be discharged from Alpha Flight, though. Doctors think I’m gonna be walking with a permanent limp,” Arlette said. 

Cable grimaced. “Sorry to hear that.” 

Arlette looked curiously at him, then at Wade and back. “Kinda wanted to ask. Why do you do that? Ask questions that you probably already know the answer to?” 

“It’s nice to talk,” Cable said, even as Wade said, “‘Cos he’s actually too fucking lazy to read your mind.” 

“I appreciate the concern, whatever it is. And thanks. For helping,” Arlette said. 

“Domino said you were doing fine breaking out by yourself,” Wade said. “And y’know, if you ever get bored of helping out at your aunt’s, come down to New York. It’s fun going freelance. You get to travel, be your own boss, and shoot whoever you like.” 

“He wants to make friends with a teleporter so you can fetch him chimichangas,” Cable said. Wade glowered at him even as Arlette laughed and Russell came out of the kitchen. He made a bee-line for the steamer. 

“Dumplings? Aww _yeah_. I love dumplings.” 

“They’re Domino’s,” Wade said brightly. “You just put one in your mouth and bite down.” 

Russell stared at him suspiciously. “It’s a trap. Isn’t it.” 

“I don’t know how you’re allowed near children, let alone how you’ve been given responsibility for three,” Silver said, coming out of the kitchen with a stack of plates and cutlery. “Was that even legal?” 

“I’m the main character, it’s legal,” Wade said as the table began to set itself. “Anyway, Cable helps.”

“You mean I do all the work,” Cable said. 

“You can fold laundry while lying on the couch watching reruns of the Simpsons. That’s not work.” Wade ate another dumpling, which was thankfully now at a less-lethal temperature, though the soup dribbled down his chin. “Who the fuck thought up soup dumplings anyway?” Wade asked, mouth full. “Soup should be _outside_ a dumpling. Fuck this weirdly delicious inception shit.” 

Silver pulled a face and patted Juan on the shoulders. “Ugh. Maybe you two should stay with me instead.”

#

“Wow. Your place is huge,” Arlette said, round-eyed as she took in the view from Domino’s Tribeca apartment. “You can actually afford this?”

Narya let out a low whistle as she looked around the brightly lit square of a living room, with its sleek couches and its floor-to-ceiling view of the city. “How much did this cost?” she asked. 

“Told you guys I had the space,” Domino said, indifferent. “When I set out on my own I bought a lottery ticket, won the lottery, and bought this place with the winnings. Pick a room each. We can go to the Odeon for lunch, then head over to Sister Margaret’s after to talk to Dopinder. He says he’s got a lead on Warden Stryker’s possible location.”

“I’m starting to feel like we should be paying you rent,” Narya said, blinking. “Wow. This is the fanciest apartment I’ve ever been in.” 

Domino shook her head. “Nah. We’re going to go into business together. What’s a spare room between new partners?” 

“Why don’t you just keep buying lottery tickets?” Arlette asked as Narya peeked into the first room past the living space. “If I had your powers, _man_. I wouldn’t work.” 

“Great powers, great responsibilities,” Domino said wryly. “Ain’t that how it goes? But sure. When I was younger, I did just use the money to get what I want. But when you always get what you want… You start taking life for granted. You start taking _people_ for granted. Helping those kids from the Mansion… hell, even helping you guys? Felt good. Made me feel good about life all over again.” 

Arlette smiled. She flickered over from the window, appearing a foot away and coming in for a hug. “Thanks though. Seriously. For offering. Living with Auntie Silver was great, but. Well.”

“Got to leave the nest sooner or later and kick some ass?” Domino patted Arlette on the back. “Go on. Pick a room. Let’s get started.” 

“Okay.” Arlette started to pull her suitcase towards the corridor. She paused. “Hey, did you ever tell the boys about this place? Wilson?” 

Domino grimaced. “And have him invite himself over all the time? Nah hell no.”

#

Having kids really did make it seriously hard to have sex. Thankfully Russell had opted—if reluctantly—to stay on in the X-Mansion, but Miles and Juan had to move out of Sister Margaret’s, if only because the place didn’t have a shower. On top of that, the nature of Wade’s work made for odd hours and periods of time spent away from New York. Which made coming home fun, if the timing was right.

Wade kissed Cable as he was backed up against tiles, the shower shutting itself off as Cable hauled Wade’s thighs up around his waist. Still an easy lift, though maybe he was cheating. Wade ran his hands appreciatively over the packed muscle on Cable’s shoulders, the solid planes of his chest. “Seriously don’t know how you maintain muscle tone when you’re a bum,” Wade told him.

Cable bit him for that, licking against Wade’s mouth. “Offered to go on jobs with you, you said no,” he said harshly. His fingers were scissoring Wade open, refusing to be rushed no matter how much Wade pointedly ground down against Cable’s knuckles. 

“The Wingardium Leviosa thing you can do kinda got boring after a while. Especially since you didn’t want to do the thing.” Wade mimed waving a wand.

“You fucking know my powers aren’t magical in nature.” 

“Pssh. It’s about _fun_ , you sad sack of a human being. If I had your powers, I would totally convince everyone I was the second coming of Harry Potter. I bought you a fake wand and everything. Anyway. You could take your own jobs.” 

“And who’d watch the kids?”

“I did fine by myself when I was their age,” Wade said, though he didn’t like to think about that stage in his life much. Cable hesitated, studying him for a moment until Wade growled and squirmed. “Fuck’s sake, can we _not_ do a ‘Feels’ moment when you have your fucking fingers up my fucking ass?” 

Cable huffed, amused, though he obligingly got back on with the program. “Told you I keep busy. Trying to learn as much as I can about this time period before I decide on what to do next.”

“Looks to me like you hatewatch a lot of news and read way too much depressing shit. Know where… fff… you should get your news? The Onion.” 

Cable stared up at him. “That’s a satirical site. I saw the article you sent me.” 

“Satirical, schmetirical. That’s an alternative opinion.” 

“No—what even the _fuck_ , Wade, facts are facts, there’s no such thing as fucking alternative _facts._ ”

Wade started to laugh, because it was hilarious and often random what actually did push all of Cable’s buttons. He was still snickering as Cable dropped him unceremoniously and turned him around to face the tiles. “Fake news, Nate.”

“Why the hell do I find you hot?” Cable muttered, a prayer for reason that he usually uttered at least twice a week in varying degrees of exasperation or fondness. “I know you don’t even fucking mean what you’re saying and you’re still pissing me off. Which you do on purpose. You’re such a fucking asswipe.” 

“That’s just your interpretation of the situation,” Wade said, reaching over and raking fingernails up Cable’s left flank. Flesh where organic steel had been. Cable hissed, his fattened cock nudging roughly up against Wade’s ass. 

“Jesus,” Cable muttered, then, as Wade hoped, he started to laugh, a low and rumbling sound that he rubbed raw against Wade’s back, mouthing over the scars. He pushed inside. 

The intrusion always hurt, because Wade always got bored eventually with prep and because Cable was _big_. Big enough for Wade to be maybe a teeny bit jealous, even. Wade pressed his forehead against the tiles and made abortive little gasps, shoving down against Cable’s grip and unable to budge him. Cable licked water off Wade’s shoulders, over the knobs of his spine. Too slow. Wade clenched down and grinned to himself as Cable flinched and snarled. 

Sometimes furniture moved around the house when Cable _really_ got riled up, which was why there was a moratorium on sex when the kids were around and which was probably why their neighbours kept moving out. Something rattled in the bathroom cabinet. Wade hissed as Cable started to thrust against him, driving balls deep against his ass, keeping it slow until Wade started squirming in annoyance. Wade scratched up Cable’s ribcage and back down to his hip, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 

Cable bit him hard for it, over his shoulder, teeth scraping down to Wade’s throat and if anything got _Wade’s_ blood really pumping it was this, Cable fucking him like he wanted to compress Wade into his skin, infection and ugliness and fractured mind and all. Like none of it mattered, like Cable didn’t even see it. Wade swallowed a breath that broke in his throat like a sob for breath. Cable was stroking him off in sharp jerks, not bothering to keep to the rhythm. With ‘Ness sex had never been visceral. Wade had never breathed her in like he needed it. Cable choked out his name against the back of his spine and Wade clawed at the tiles, bucking out of synch, desperate. A final tug and Wade was coming gratefully against the shower wall, over Cable’s hands. Cable didn’t slow. Wade braced himself to take it, starting to snort, then chuckle, until Cable ground in deep and breathed against his cheek. 

“What now?” Cable asked, when he caught his breath and pulled out. 

“Area Man Discovers Sex from the Future Still the Same Insert Tab A to Slot B,” Wade said, as the shower turned itself back on, and laughed as Cable’s face twisted from incomprehension to comprehension to resignation. He kissed Cable and got mauled for it, licking into Cable’s mouth until he got pinned back against the shower wall.

“Russell said he’d come over for dinner,” Wade said later, when he was stretched over the couch and Cable’s lap, checking his phone.

“Sure. I’ll make something nice.”

“Don’t know why you bother. A steady diet of pop-tarts never hurt anyone. And they’re kids. Kids bounce back from anything.” 

“You are seriously unfit to parent a goldfish, let alone three actual human beings,” Cable said sourly. “Lucky…” He trailed off. 

“Lucky you’re here,” Wade said, without even thinking about it. “Hey, another Instagram Story from Yukio. Looks like the X-Kids are in Guatemala? Y’know, this Hollywood tendency to just drop people into exotic locations without genuine cultural engagement is really—” Wade stopped. Cable had gone very still. “What?” 

“Family,” Cable said quietly. “That’s what you’re thinking.” 

“…Are we going to have a Feels talk? _Now_?” Given things had worked out so far without Wade having to do anything from points 1 to 10 of Cosmopolitan’s How to Preserve a Meaningful Relationship list, he’d been hoping that winging it was good enough. 

“Moment ruined,” Cable said, and rubbed a hand over his face. 

“What kind of moment? Nate? Naaate?”

#

“Really?” Cable said, looking at the teetering structures of fairground rides against the brilliant blue sky. “None of this looks safe. And you’re going to regret letting the boys have so much sugar.”

“I won’t hear anyone disrespect candy floss and toffee apples,” Wade told him. The crowds were thick around them, but no one gave Wade’s bared face a second glance. Telepathic misuse or tourist apathy. Wade wasn’t sure which. Russell came back with toffee apples, trailing Miles and Juan and grinning as he handed one over to Wade, then to Cable, who accepted his with a grimace. 

“What? You didn’t want one?” Russell asked. “Oops. Sorry. Maybe I should’ve asked first.” 

“Ignore him, he’s just pathologically incapable of fun.” Wade handed out some bills with now-sticky fingers. “Meet back here in two hours and don’t get kidnapped.” 

Russell rolled his eyes but didn’t budge. Juan pointed into the distance. “Rollercoaster.” 

“We all go,” Miles said. He was licking his toffee apple, frowning in concentration. 

“Firstly, that’s not how you eat a toffee apple. Look at Juan and Russell, they’ve got the right idea. Secondly, Nate will have a conniption, that thing’s probably older than him, difficult as that might be to believe. They don’t have theme parks in the murder future?” Wade asked Cable. 

“No,” Cable said. “This place is way too crowded and everyone’s too fucking high on sugar and grease. I’m getting a headache—” He went still as Wade took a small bite of his apple and kissed him, pushing the fragment into his mouth.

“PDA much?” Russell said pointedly. “This was meant to be a PG-13 day out.”

“You’re 15 now. Congrats, you’ve unlocked a new ratings tier,” Wade said, as Cable blinked, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Wade leaned in again, only for Cable to press fingers hastily over his mouth.

“Wade,” Cable said, and murmured, “later,” in a promising growl against Wade’s ear. 

“ _Fiiine_. PG it is.” Wade pulled away, then nearly startled back as Cable pressed a palm absently against the small of his back, easy as you please. Slotting against each other like this felt inevitable, imperfect as they were. It should’ve unsettled Wade. Made him defensive. He leaned into Cable’s touch instead, and felt broad fingers rub briefly against his spine.

“Coney Island. Coney dogs real?” Miles asked, looking around.

Wade frowned at him. “What kind of question is that? Of course they’re a thing.” 

“Yukio say Singapore noodles not real,” Juan said defensively. “Maybe Coney Dog not real.” 

“That’s it. We’re all getting sick on junk food. My treat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade is trying to eat xiaolongbao | 小笼包 (literally: little basket buns) and yes, you have to be careful with those. They're one of my fav things in the world to eat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> \--  
> twitter: manic_intent  
> tumblr: manic-intent.tumblr.com


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